


Means, Motive, Opportunity

by imunbreakabledude



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Eve + Hugo Buddy cops, F/F, Hogwarts, I will say Slow Burn one more time, Loads and Loads of Characters - Freeform, Mystery, Slow Burn, Suspense, but villaneve is endgame, seriously the softest villanelle i will ever write, soft!villanelle, split POV, the plot will burn fast but the relationship will burn slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imunbreakabledude/pseuds/imunbreakabledude
Summary: Eve is an Auror sent to investigate a string of murders at Hogwarts. Villanelle is a student in her final year who will do anything in the name of love. They will be drawn together by forces they can’t comprehend as the killer’s true motives are revealed.Part magical whodunnit. Part love story.
Relationships: Anna Leonova/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 198
Kudos: 420





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd write this AU, but after I was idly pondering what Hogwarts house the KE characters would be in, a plot came to me in a flash. And I'm so frickin excited to share it with you all.
> 
> If you aren't a big Harry Potter person, but you like Killing Eve, you should be able to appreciate this fic – basically, it'll be a similar vibe to KE, but with all the characters together in one setting, and also there's magic involved.
> 
>  **Note:** For the purposes of this fic, the seven years of Hogwarts students range from ages 14-21 rather than 11-18. This is so that some characters can remain closer to their ages on the show.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Hugo arrive at Hogwarts to a lukewarm welcome. Villanelle discovers something amiss.

Eve had hoped for a warmer welcome on her first day at Hogwarts, but the Headmaster, Konstantin Vasiliev, greets her more like her presence is a rude intrusion than anything else.

“With all due respect, Headmaster, three murders have already happened on your watch,” Eve says, adjusting her position as she sits across the desk from the Headmaster, trying to look more professional and intimidating. “Kasia Molkovska, sixth year. Carla De Mann, visiting professor of Aromatics. Davide Greco, first year.” Eve looks pointedly at Konstantin, who blinks tiredly in response. “I would think you’d welcome all the help you could get, before that list of victims grows any longer.”

“The Minister of Magic is a good friend of mine,” Konstantin says, with a layer of warmth masking a hard edge in his tone. “She would trust me to handle this as I see fit.”

“Evidently, Carolyn doesn’t trust you, or else we wouldn’t be here,” Eve replies, already growing impatient with proving her credentials to this has-been school administrator. 

Hugo, who has been waiting for an excuse to get involved, leaps in, trying to smooth things over. “What my colleague means, Headmaster, is that we would appreciate your full cooperation in this investigation.”

Eve tries not to roll her eyes at Hugo’s incredible level of ass-kissing, but it’s one of his natural talents – and Carolyn made sure to let Eve know that was the main reason he was paired with her for this case. 

Konstantin’s jaw is set angrily, but he turns to Hugo. “Mr. Hawtrey, I trust that you will teach your partner how things work around here. We don’t need an outsider stirring things up because she doesn’t understand our customs here at Hogwarts.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Hugo says quickly, simultaneously stamping on Eve’s foot to remind her to bite back whatever retort she is forming.

Konstantin returns to Eve. “I hope we haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot, Mrs. Polastri–”

“Ms. Polastri,” Eve corrects him.

“Right,” Konstantin continues. “I do not wish to insult you. I only want the best for this school. I want this murderer caught as soon as possible.”

“Then we all want the same thing,” Eve says sweetly. “We should get along fine.”

Once they’re out of the office and out of earshot, Eve turns to Hugo, smacking him lightly on the arm. “What was that about?” she demands. “Do I have to remind you I’m the lead officer here?”

“Do I have to remind _you_ that I’m the one who actually knows this place, and these people?” He shoots Eve a very patronizing look as he continues. “For example, I know that Headmaster Vasiliev, despite his avuncular demeanor, is incredibly dangerous when he wants to be. I didn’t want you on the wrong side of an Animagus.”

“Animagi are all bark and no bite,” Eve says. “What’s he turn into? A dog? A fluffy bunny?”

“A bear,” Hugo says. “So I’ve heard.”

“Whatever. Bears can’t use magic anyhow, so I still think I could take him.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn about this place…”

Eve whips out her wand, deciding that Hugo requires a quick Jelly-Legs Jinx to erase his smugness, but as she wheels around to him she slams into someone rounding the corner to come to the headmaster’s office.

Eve examines the young adult she crashed into. She must be a student, since she’s in the uniform, a grey sweater under robes, with a red and gold tie. The girl brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face and looks up at Eve, fury in her eyes for a minute, which then evaporates into curiosity.

“Sorry,” Eve says, retrieving her wand from where it skittered onto the ground. The girl dusts herself off and picks up her own wand, shoving it into her robe pocket, but never taking her eyes off of Eve. It almost looks like a spark of recognition in her eyes, but that makes no sense, since Eve has never seen this girl before in her life.

Eve’s breath catches, though she’s not sure why. Must be embarrassment from having already angered the headmaster and bumped into a student when she’s hardly been there for ten minutes. The student continues on her way, into the Headmaster’s office – _for discipline, or other reasons?_ Eve wonders. But before she can dwell on it any longer, she realizes Hugo is beckoning her to leave and follows his lead out of the school.

Eve and Hugo head to the inn where they’re staying out in the small village of Hogsmeade a short distance from the school grounds. The Three Broomsticks is a cozy enough affair that reminds Eve of all the reasons she enjoys living in the UK – although their wizarding community is woefully stuck in the past, she can get behind the old-fashioned aesthetic when it comes to tourism.

After the inn’s owner, Madam Rosmerta, shows Eve to her room upstairs, the first thing she does is sit down and scribbles a quick note to Carolyn: _Minister, Arrived at Hogwarts. Your friend Konstantin wasn’t very happy to see us, though. Can you send him an owl and tell him to keep off my dick? -Eve_

She hands the note to Phoebe, her beautiful tawny barn owl, who hoots appreciatively, clearly craving the exercise after being cooped up in her cage for the long journey to Hogwarts. Eve opens the window and sets Phoebe loose into the night, then surveys her room.

Eve has little to do in the way of unpacking, since she only brought a few practical and comfortable robes with her. With the official investigation not slated to start until tomorrow morning, she decides the best use of the evening may be to get to know her partner, since it’s their first time working together.

“Oh, Mr. Hawtrey,” Eve calls out, hoping her voice will carry through the wall into the adjacent room.

Sure enough, Hugo appears in her doorway a few seconds later. “Yes, Ms. Polastri?”

“Shall we discuss the plan for tomorrow?”

“Can we take it downstairs?” Hugo asks with a crooked grin. “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

“Are you hitting on your co-Auror?”

“I heard you were recently on the market,” Hugo replies. Eve rolls her eyes, but accompanies him downstairs where they procure a table and a round of firewhiskeys. After Eve has a few in her (Hugo keeps ordering more each time she finishes), she loses her filter, and drifts away from the topic of work towards recent developments in her personal life.

“Everyone in my life told me not to marry a muggle. Everyone!” Eve gestures with her drink and spills a few drops onto the table. “But I just had to prove them wrong.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re a Ravenclaw,” Hugo says, pointing dramatically.

“A what now?”

“One of the Hogwarts houses,” Hugo explains. “Means you’re a know-it-all.”

“Which one means you’re an asshole?” Eve retorts.

“Slytherin, and I’m proud to be one,” Hugo says, finishing his drink and signaling to the bartender for another round.

“God, those names are stupid. What are the others? Fluffypoof and Grapplesnork?”

“Gryffindor for the righteous types and Hufflepuff for the nice blokes,” Hugo explains.

“Maybe if I was a Hufflepuff I could’ve made it work with Niko,” Eve sighs.

“His loss,” Hugo says, with finality.

“It’s not Niko’s fault,” Eve sighs. “Well, maybe in a way. Why couldn’t he just be a _little_ magic? A little less… boring.”

“You know what you need?” Hugo leans over the table and whispers, “A good shag.”

“Ew, Hugo, don’t make me report you.”

“Not with me!” he clarifies, “Though if you wanted, we could have that conversation.” He winks impishly.

“Then with who?”

“Take your pick. Hogwarts is full of plenty of eligible men _and_ women.”

“You’re suggesting I shag a student?”

“I was referring to the professors, but…some of the students are adults after all…” Hugo begins to mumble.

“Wait wait wait wait _wait_ ,” Eve babbles. “Did you come on this case just so you could come back to your old school and try to sleep with your professors?”

“I’ve gone and run my mouth,” Hugo says.

Eve’s face expands into an excited grin. “Which teacher did you have the hots for? Whose name did little student Hugo doodle while he was in class?”

“This is not about me,” Hugo deflects. “This is about you and your second act.”

“Don’t you dare call it my second act. I’m in the prime of life.”

“Sorry,” Hugo laughs, then surveys the line of empty glasses on the table. “We’re going to be so hungover.”

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Eve moans. “We’ve got to be back at the school before breakfast to start investigating.”

“Your call, chief. You could let us both sleep in.”

“No. We need to do this right. We have to solve this case quick and clean.”

“Why?”

“I know you wouldn’t understand this because you’re a fresh faced little meerkat who hasn’t had time to soil himself on the job yet, but… the last couple cases haven’t gone exactly as I wanted. The Minister made damn sure I knew she was taking a chance on me by giving me this case, so I have to show her I can handle it.” 

Eve stops there, keeping her greatest fear to herself: if she doesn’t catch this murderer in record time, she’ll be fired, heading home to the States to work in some bulk potions supply store.

“Woof,” Hugo says. “Alright, I’ll drink water so that I can be up at the crack of dawn. I’ll be a good boy for you.”

“Don’t be weird.”

Eve stands up, taking a moment to steady herself. Guilt washes over her as she notices they state they left the table in, so she decides to be a kind patron and spare Rosmerta the cleanup. Drawing her wand, she flicked it to attempt a simple Cleaning Charm she used almost every night at home when it was her turn to clear the table.

However, instead of stacking the cups neatly on the counter as the spell should, it instead sends a burst of sparks toward the table which hits one of the empty glasses and shatters it to pieces.

Hugo’s eyes widen. “I think you’re a bit too drunk to be doing spells right now.”

“No,” Eve mutters, staring at her wand-hand incredulously. She’s done magic while tipsy before; she knows what it feels like, and more importantly, she knows how her wand responds to it. She looks up at Hugo, confused. “Something’s very wrong.”

“Alright, that’s bedtime, then.” Hugo adopts a withering look, as if to say, _What a shame that you can’t hold your alcohol like a young person anymore,_ then points his wand at the shattered glass, and mutters “ _Reparo_ ,” causing it to reassemble itself.

“Sorry, Rosmerta,” he calls out as he takes Eve by the arm and marches her up to her room, and though she protests, once she hits the lumpy but soft mattress she goes out like a light.

* * *

After one final glance at the two strangers retreating down the hallway, Villanelle climbs through the door to Konstantin’s office. “Who are those people?” she asks immediately, not bothering with a greeting.

“Aurors from the Ministry,” Konstantin replies.

“Here to catch the murderer?” Villanelle asks, intrigued.

“Yes. Now, tell me how your preparation is going for your N.E.W.T.s.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Villanelle murmurs, hardly focusing on Konstantin’s words, still picturing the woman’s face. Her hair.

“Hey.” Konstantin snaps his fingers in Villanelle’s face. “I’m trying to talk to you!”

“What is her name?”

“Who?”

“That woman.”

Konstantin looks suspicious. “What is it to you?”

“She looked familiar,” Villanelle says defensively.

“Familiar,” Konstantin repeats. “She only came here from America a few years ago. When would you have met her?”

Villanelle shrugs. She knows Konstantin hates when she does that, but that’s why she does.

“Don’t be naughty!” Konstantin chides her, as he has so many times before.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I see that look in your eye,” Konstantin growls. “Don’t get in the way of the Aurors.”

“What if they need help?”

“They don’t. And you have other things to worry about. You have only a few more months here at Hogwarts, and then you are off on your own.” Villanelle smiles, trying to make Konstantin believe she’s paying attention. “You’ve lived here for seven years,” he continues. “Do you know where you are going to go next?”

“Don’t worry so much. You will give yourself an ulcer.”

“I want to make sure you are taken care of once you are no longer in my custody.”

“I will be a very good witch just like you taught me. Perhaps I will even join the Ministry and become an Auror…”

Konstantin’s face darkens. “I’m serious! Stay away from them!”

“That’s not fair!” Villanelle protests. “How can I decide what job I want if I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

“I’ll find another Auror for you to get a butterbeer with.”

“That’s not necessary,” Villanelle replies with a smile.

A low growl begins in Konstantin’s throat.

“There’s no need to go all furry on me,” Villanelle says, defensively. “I will stay away from them. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She lays one hand over her heart and flops her head to the side, playing dead, until she notices Konstantin cracking a smile.

“Back to business. I want to make sure you are preparing for your N.E.W.T.s.”

“I’ve been studying all day,” Villanelle lies.

“If you really want to be an Auror all of a sudden, you know you need Exceeds Expectations or higher in five different subjects?”

Villanelle nods solemnly.

“You need to take this seriously,” Konstantin presses, not buying her act. Villanelle knows what’s coming next, so she joins in with Konstantin as he says, “I didn’t bring you all the way from Russia for you to goof around.” She adds an exaggerated finger wag, mimicking his authoritative tone.

“Don’t worry,” she laughs, brushing off his concerned look. “I know all the books as well as I know you.”

“I want you to have a good life after Hogwarts. You can do great things if you try.”

“I will do great things,” Villanelle insists. “Is the lecture over? Can I go back to studying?”

Konstantin sighs heavily. “Yes.”

Villanelle thinks Konstantin’s concern for her is cute, if overbearing. But he doesn’t know that Villanelle is already doing great things.

Villanelle spends only a few minutes in the Great Hall scarfing down dinner, not caring to socialize with anyone else at the Gryffindor table, then heads to Gryffindor tower.

Two of her fellow seventh-years, Nadia and Diego, sneer at her as she enters, as if her presence has interrupted their conversation, which seems utterly unfair since there are already a couple other students lounging around the common room. She ignores them and curls up in a chair on the other side of the room, opening her Defense Against the Dark Arts book to make a token effort at studying.

Once Villanelle’s nose is convincingly stuck in the book, Nadia and Diego resume their conversation.

“I heard a couple of Aurors arrived today,” Diego says. “The killer better watch out.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Must be a professor. A student would’ve messed up and got caught already.”

“Maybe it’s not any of us, maybe it’s some magical creature, preying on people,” Nadia suggests.

“Or a dangerous criminal, escaped from Azkaban.”

“Maybe it’s you,” Nadia says, poking Diego in the nose. Villanelle has to stifle a gag.

“Yeah, maybe it is me,” Diego says playfully. “I am the great and terrible Hogwarts Murderer. I am going to get you next, pumpkin.”

He lunges in and the two of them start gobbling at each other’s faces. Villanelle slams her book shut and stands up; she doesn’t need to see this.

“Hey,” she quips as she heads for the spiral staircase to the girls’ dormitory. “There’s children around.” She gestures to a scrawny second-year boy sitting by the fireplace.

“Gabriel doesn’t mind, does he?” Diego asks, grinning widely at the boy. Gabriel, for his part, seems too terrified to get in the middle of the older students’ argument, and flees to his dormitory.

Villanelle scoffs and starts up the stairs. Her peers are a minor and constant annoyance, but she remains preoccupied with her encounter outside Konstantin’s office earlier.

Why is she so stuck on that Auror woman who felt so familiar, like Villanelle had met her a long time ago? 

Perhaps it was her hair. God, that hair is incredible. Dark and curly. Like Anna’s. Maybe even better than Anna’s. Not that Villanelle will ever mention it – no need to make her jealous. 

But Villanelle can’t dwell on the Auror’s hair forever. She has work to do, though not on her N.E.W.T.s. Once she confirms that no one else is presently in the dormitory, she reaches under her bed and sticks out her wand, to use a Revealing Charm and uncover her trunk where she keeps her most valuable possession.

 _“Revelio”_ , she mutters, by habit, but nothing appears. Did she miss or something? She points the wand directly under her bed and hisses _“Revelio,”_ once more. Her trunk flickers into view for a minute, then disappears again.

Slapping the side of the bed in anger, she stabs her wand forward and shouts _“Revelio!”_ with more gusto than she’s ever required for a simple charm before. Finally, the wand sparks to life and her trunk materializes into view for good, although Villanelle is too preoccupied to open it at the moment.

Turning the wand over in her hands, she feels the dappled tan wood on her fingertips. Although in every tangible way, it appears familiar to her, Villanelle always trusts her gut more than her eyes, especially where magic is concerned. 

From the way that the wand resisted her, Villanelle’s gut is absolutely certain: this is _not_ her wand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my first time writing Villanelle's POV at all. What do you think?
> 
> Or come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable)!
> 
> Also thank you to my main gal, and most trusted HP expert, [Kara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kpowell123/pseuds/kpowell123) for beta reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Hugo begin their investigation of the three murders. Villanelle has a secret rendezvous after hours.

Eve takes a swig of Madam Rosmerta’s Hangover-gone potion, which at one Galleon a pop is still a bargain for the instant relief it provides. Although her headache clears and the potion perfectly rehydrates her body, the walk down the winding dirt path to Hogwarts still feels like a walk of shame.

Getting drunk with her junior officer her very first night on the case. That’s exactly the type of extremely “professional” conduct that got Eve into trouble on her last few cases. That, and her tendency to make arrests based on her instincts rather than on hard evidence. 

But at the moment, she’s more preoccupied with the doppelganger wand in her hands. “Uncanny,” she mutters, turning the wand over and over, feeling every inch. It’s almost undistinguishable from her own – same length: same sycamore body, eleven inches long; same glossy finish; same beveled handle. Upon closer inspection, however, it’s missing a few of the battle scars Eve knew her own wand had accumulated over the years – no chip on the hilt from the time she’d taken on a troll on her own in the woods of Connecticut; no scratch near the tip from the nasty duel she’d gotten into with that dragon-egg smuggler two years ago. 

Hugo, however, is still reluctant to believe Eve that it isn’t her own. “So someone stole your wand and swapped it out for this decoy?”

“No,” Eve says. “I think I found my twin.”

“Your what?”

Eve calls back the dim memory from almost thirty years ago. “I grew up in the States, but my dad was from here, and he said no one else makes wands like Ollivander, so when we were here on a vacation one summer before I started wizarding school, I got my wand.”

“I must’ve tried almost a hundred before I found one that clicked,” she continues. “And that guy, in his creepy way, I’m sure you know it–”

“Yeah, Ollivander’s an odd one,” Hugo agrees.

“Well, he started looking me up and down and prodding me and asking if I had a twin, and I said no, I have no siblings at all. And he said ‘That’s odd, because this wand is one of a matched set’. Wood from the same tree, heartstring from the same dragon. Said he went through a phase where he thought twin wands would catch on for siblings, but he hardly sold any, so he stopped making them.”

“Then why doesn’t it work for you the same as your own wand?”

“He said every wand is unique, even if you try to match it… just like identical twins share the same genetics but can still have different personalities… blah blah blah. I stopped listening at some point and begged my dad to let us leave.”

“So now you’ve run into your twin,” Hugo says. “But who is it?”

“I think I know,” Eve says, remembering the student she had bumped into yesterday. It had to be her – Eve had dropped her wand, they must’ve each picked up the other’s wand by mistake. “But I have no idea how to find her.”

“Let’s ask a student then,” Hugo says.

Once the reach the school, Hugo leads Eve to the Great Hall, which is a fitting name for the enormous dining room. Four long tables stretch lengthwise down the room, and it appears that the students are separated by house, as far as Eve can tell from the color-coding of their uniforms. Hugo leads them towards the table where they students are all in blue ties, and Eve calls out once she sees whom Hugo was bringing her to speak to.

“Kenny!” she calls out, waving to him. She’d met him a few times at the Ministry office, and he’d even assisted on a few cases. He was so mature for his age, she had forgotten that he was still a student at Hogwarts.

Kenny looks up, mortified, then stands and quickly strides over to Eve and Hugo. “Please, keep your voice down. And try to pretend you don’t know me.”

“Why?”

Kenny turns a shade of purple and whispers, “No one here knows my mum is Minister of Magic. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Hugo’s jaw drops. “Why hide it? Think of how nice everyone would treat you if they knew your mum could have them fired or thrown in Azkaban.”

“Exactly,” Kenny mumbles, looking at the floor. “What is it you’re after, so I can go eat my breakfast in peace?”

“I’m looking for a student. A girl.” Eve calls up the memory of the girl’s face. “Her hair is dark blonde, maybe honey. She was slim, about twenty, twenty-one. She had very delicate features. Her eyes are sort of catlike. Wide, but alert. Lips are full. She has a long neck, high cheekbones. Skin is smooth and bright. She had a lost look in her eye, both direct and chilling. She’s totally focused, yet almost entirely inaccesible.”

“Right,” Kenny mumbles. “But uh, what house is she in?”

“She had a red-and-gold tie,” Eve offers, still fuzzy on the stupid house names.

“Gryffindor then. I think there’s only one blonde Gryffindor girl in my year, so you must be after Villanelle Astankova.” Kenny turns to look over at the Gryffindor table, then says, “Doesn’t look like she’s here at the moment, which figures because she’s kind of a loner. Can I go before people start to wonder why you’re talking to me?”

“Oh, they won’t guess Carolyn’s your mum,” Eve says.

“The alternative is they’ll think I’m under suspicion of murder, so…”

Hugo laughs. “Technically, you are, mate. Everyone’s a suspect.” Then he asks very seriously, “Did you murder those three people?”

“No,” Kenny replies flatly.

“Good enough for me. Enjoy your breakfast.”

As Kenny scampers away, Eve snorts. “Great detective work.”

“Oh sure, make fun. But what do you have to say about that _poetry_ you offered to Kenny? Been thinking about your wand twin all night, eh?”

“I’m observant, Hugo. It’s part of our job. Like you said, everyone’s a suspect.”

“Right. I note down the fullness of suspects’ lips all the time.”

Since there’s no chance of getting her wand back at the moment, Eve decides she’ll try to catch this Villanelle at another meal, but in the meantime, they should begin investigating. Hugo leads her to the Hogwarts library, and they post up in some cozy armchairs that, unsettlingly enough, sigh as they’re sat in, then begin taking stock of the evidence at hand so far. 

“Kasia Molkovska,” Eve begins. “Sixth year from Ravenclaw. Once a brilliant student who then became addicted to mood-enhancing potions. Found dead two months ago in the girls’ bathroom.”

“Sounds like an overdose to me,” Hugo says.   
  
“Right, but after the other two deaths, the timing seems suspicious,” Eve continues. “Two weeks later, there was Professor De Mann, in town for a limited lecture series on Aromatic magic. She failed to report to her morning lecture on her third day here, then was found dead in her quarters, with a vial in her hands.”

“Couldn’t it be that she mixed up her aromas and killed herself by accident?”

“Maybe, but she’s far too good for that kind of amateurish mistake,” Eve says, growing impatient. “Then, Davide Greco. First year from Slytherin, described by his own parents as a ‘greedy little idiot’. He had the most obvious cause of death: found with a poisoned lolly in his hands.”

“That one could be an accident, too, if he’s such a greedy little idiot.”

“Why are you here? Just to slow things down?” Eve snaps.

Hugo holds up his hands defensively. “Just doing due diligence like I was taught. Healthy skepticism. Giving you something to bounce off of. By all means continue on, Ms. Ravenclaw.”

“So what can we tell about the killer from these kills?” Eve asks, rhetorically, then answers herself: “She kills differently each time, and at least after the first one, isn’t trying very hard to make it look natural. Which tells us she isn’t worried about getting caught.”

“Careful with that ‘she’,” Hugo says.

“Kasia was killed in the girls’ bathroom. Our killer is a ‘she.’”

“You think someone who’s okay with murder, wouldn’t be okay with breaking the social norm of gendered bathrooms?” Hugo points out.

“Fine. She, he, they, whatever,” Eve concedes.

“There’s not a clear pattern in the victims, either,” Hugo says. “Two students, from different houses, different ages, no apparent social connection between them. Plus a professor who was only here for a temporary stay.”

“Which means the killer probably isn’t choosing victims by personal connection or by profiling.”

“Killing at random?” Hugo suggests.

“Killing for _fun_ ,” Eve says.

“That’s grim.”

“That’s our motive,” Eve says. “Unless we discover new evidence. And that motive will be our guide to finding the killer.”

Eve and Hugo stare at each other wordlessly for a solid minute, until Hugo breaks the silence. “You have no fucking clue, do you?”

“I said it was a woman, which _you_ shot down, so you don’t get to accuse _me_ of having no ideas.” Eve stretches out her legs, fidgeting. “I’m sick of sitting here. These sentient chairs creep me out.”

Hugo rises, seemingly also glad for a distraction. “I’ll show you around. This place is huge and you’ve hardly seen any of it.”

“Getting to know the environment is important to the investigation,” Eve rationalizes. 

They spend most of the day exploring the school. Hugo guides Eve through the castle corridors full of living portraits and suits of armor. With every new oddity she discovers, Eve feels more and more grateful that she went to a normal magic school in the States, where at least the stairs didn’t suddenly decide to reconfigure themselves underneath your feet.

As they make the rounds, they meet a few Professors, but don’t jump into any interrogations yet; they simply introduce themselves and offer the standard invitation to “please come let us know if you have any information that might be of use to our investigation”.

They meet Professor Lawson of Transfiguration, a whip-smart woman with kind eyes who invites Eve to please, call her Jess; Professor Frank Haleton of Potions, who seems shifty to Eve, so she immediately stereotypes him as a suspect; and Professor Max Leonov of History of Magic, a slightly disheveled man with a kind smile whose first question is if they’ve met his wife yet. Eve replies, no, they haven’t, but it’s nearly six, and they have to head back down to the Great Hall if they hope to catch the elusive Villanelle Astankova at dinner.

As they leave Professor Leonov’s classroom, Hugo chuckles. “I just realized, it’s awfully funny that Professor Leonov teaches History of Magic, and his wife teaches Divination. Between them they’ve got past and future covered.”

“They must be a perfect match,” Eve replies, as they descend a set of stairs which decides to rearrange itself as they walk, Eve groans, and decides she may as well make use of the time the forced detour provides, to ask about something that’s been nagging at her. “Is it just me,” she asks Hugo, “or are there an awful lot of Russians at this school?”

“It’s because of Headmaster Vasiliev. I mean, Konstantin,” Hugo explains. “When he was appointed Headmaster – not long before I started at Hogwarts – it caused a bit of ruckus at first. Some parents really questioned if Hogwarts, the pride of the UK, should have a foreigner as Headmaster. Really nothing more than xenophobia.”

“Bold of him to give me crap for being an ‘outsider’ when he isn’t from here either,” Eve mutters.

“Like that, exactly,” Hugo quips. “Anyways, people calmed down after a couple years when he proved to be a great Headmaster.” Hugo pauses to consider, then goes on. “Anyways, he started a little cultural exchange of sorts where he brought over a few students from Russia to study here. Underprivileged and all that. He’s done good for them. And the Leonovs, he brought them too. One, or maybe both of them worked with Konstantin back at the wizarding school in Moscow. I can’t remember because they started here after I graduated.”

By this time, the staircase has finally made up its mind, and mercifully, has dropped them close to the entrance of the Great Hall. Eve’s stomach grumbles, excited at the prospect of dinner, but that can wait until after she’s gotten her wand back. She tells Hugo to go ahead and get food, but she will wait by the Gryffindor table. She won’t let her twin slip past her this time.

* * *

Villanelle walks into the Great Hall, ready for her typical quick meal and exit, but she’s greeted by a sight that stops her in her tracks.

Leaning up against the walls not far from the Gryffindor table stands the Auror woman. _Perfect._ Villanelle had been waiting for a chance to go looking for her again, and Konstantin can’t get angry with her, since she has a legitimate reason this time.

Villanelle wastes no time and strides right up to her. “You are Eve Park?”

“Well, um, Polastri now,” Eve says, rushing through the words, as if she’s uncomfortable explaining it. 

“Married?” Villanelle prods.

“Divorced,” Eve says, sounding almost relieved. “Maybe I’ll change it back to Park, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Ollivander told me about you. And said it was very _‘Curious.’_ ”

“ _‘Curious’_ ,” Eve repeats, mimicking Ollivander’s accent. Villanelle lets out a giggle. The impression isn’t bad.

“I always wanted to meet you,” Villanelle says, “but didn’t expect it to happen here, of all places.”

“It’s pretty crazy,” Eve agrees. “I always wondered if anyone ever got the other wand, but…”

“Now you know.”

Villanelle stares into Eve’s eyes. Based on what Ollivander told her all those years ago, Villanelle had imagined Eve Park as an old, boring, rude American, who was probably crap at magic and incapable of harnessing the full power of a sycamore wand. For starters, this woman is much more beautiful than Villanelle had ever imagined, but it remains to be seen whether the rest of her expectations will be proven correct or not.

“We should probably switch back,” Eve says, holding out Villanelle’s wand. As Villanelle passes Eve’s wand over and retrieves her own, her hand brushes briefly against Eve’s. Eve’s skin is softer than it looks. 

Eve nods, and turns to leave, but before she can go, Villanelle adds, “Your wand is very bored. You should give it more excitement.”

“Excuse me?” Eve says, turning back with a frown.

“It got so happy when I started doing some real spellwork –”

“You tried it out? Like for real?”

Villanelle can’t tell if the hint of anger in Eve’s voice is because she resents Villanelle using her wand, or if she’s upset that she didn’t do so herself. “Didn’t you? Try mine?”

Eve softens, and admits, “Only a little. It was very explosive.”

Villanelle lets out a laugh and stuffs her wand into her pocket. “Goodbye, Eve. Good luck with your investigation.”

As Eve walks away, a deep craving burns within Villanelle to get to know her wand-twin better, but the last thing she needs right now is another lecture from Konstantin. Besides, she has little time to waste, since she has to eat dinner, then churn out a Transfiguration essay as fast as possible in order to leave time for her most important plan for the evening.

Once she’s put some food into her body, she rushes up to the Gryffindor common room to do her homework. The hours pass like molasses and the parchment she writes on seems to stretch longer and longer until finally, Villanelle has written a passable essay on Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration which should be just good enough for Professor Lawson to give her a passing grade.

Then, she flits up the stairs to her dormitory, makes sure it’s empty, casts a Revealing Charm and Unlocking Charm on the trunk underneath her bed (with ease; it’s nice to have her own wand back), and retrieves the one and only inheritance from her past that has ever been of any use to her: her Invisibility Cloak.

Wrapping herself in the Cloak’s familiar silky texture, she heads to the seventh floor, left corridor, where she’s greeted with the garish and familiar sight of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching Trolls ballet. She paces back and forth by the tapestry three times thinking: _I need to meet my love. I need to meet my love. I need to meet my love._

Then the door appears opposite the tapestry, and Villanelle walks in, to where Anna is waiting for her.

Villanelle runs into Anna’s outstretched arms. “I missed you,” she exclaims, nuzzling her face into Anna’s shoulder.

“It’s only been a day,” Anna says, then amends, “I missed you too.”

“A day too long,” Villanelle says, as she withdraws and looks Anna in the face very seriously. “You have no idea how much I worry.”

As if caused by Villanelle’s expression of worry, Anna breaks into a brief coughing fit, which she stifles to the best of her ability, but it’s not enough to hide the sound completely. 

“You’re getting worse!” Villanelle exclaims. 

“I’m fine,” Anna insists, in between coughs, but she sways, seemingly faint. 

Villanelle whips out her wand and conjures a cloudlike cushion beneath Anna for her to rest upon, just in time, as a large cough makes Anna spasm and fall softly onto the cushion.

“Thank you…” Anna says, softly, catching her breath at last. “Let’s… begin your lesson…”

“I don’t need one tonight.”

“Don’t be silly, that’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t want you to over-exert yourself,” Villanelle says, crouching beside Anna in her reclining position, and taking her hand. “It’s bad enough you have to be on your feet teaching all day. You need rest now. Besides, you are always saying I am already a master of Occlumency.”

“It’s true,” Anna says, smiling proudly. “You’re a far cry from that sixteen year old girl I met who was unable to control herself… slave to every impulse…” She’s stopped by another short bout of coughing, then continues. “But this isn’t right. I'm the Professor: you shouldn’t be concerned for _me,_ that’s backwards.”

“Get used to it,” Villanelle says, kissing Anna’s hand gingerly. “I will not stop until you’ve made a full recovery.”

Anna adjusts her position on the magical cushion to more comfortably face Villanelle. “Tell me about your day.”

“Did you see those two Aurors that came?” Villanelle asks.

“Yes. It makes me nervous. I hope you’re steering clear of them.”

“You sound like Konstantin. ‘Don’t get in the way of the aurors! Grr!’” Villanelle says, mimicking Konstantin’s voice.

“Your impression is flattering, as always,” Anna says, “But in this case, he’s right.”

Villanelle rolls her eyes. “They are quite harmless.” She considers telling Anna about her connection with Eve Polastri, but then thinks better of it. Anna will find a way to worry about it, or, possibly get jealous. Either way, Villanelle decides it’s best for Anna’s health if that part of her day remains a secret.

“How are classes?” Anna asks.

“Fine,” Villanelle replies automatically, then remembers, “Did you get what I asked for?”

“Yes. I have it here,” Anna straightens up and withdraws a small vial of purple liquid from her pocket. “Please be careful. I don’t want you to hurt yourself…”

“Good one,” Villanelle laughs, then leans over to kiss Anna softly. “Until tomorrow, my love.”

“Until tomorrow,” Anna replies.

As Villanelle steps out into the hallway and wreathes herself once more in her Invisibility Cloak, she hears the dull echo of Anna’s coughing from behind her. Each cough feels like an arrow through Villanelle’s skin. She must get to work.

She hurries unseen to the empty Potions classroom and sets to work, mixing several ingredients into a cauldron along with the vial Anna gave her. A sprinkle of lionfish essence, a few stirs as it simmers, and the potion is completed. Some of Villanelle’s finest work, if she can say so herself.

It’s after midnight when Villanelle finally decants the potion into a small stoppered bottle and makes her way invisibly back towards Gryffindor Tower. 

Before she rounds the final corner of the hallway, she hears a faint snuffling sound. An animal? A ghost? She removes her cloak and tucks it under her arm, holding out her wand in front of her as she cautiously rounds the corner.

However, she lowers her wand when she sees that it’s only a boy – the same boy from the common room yesterday – sitting on the floor, crying. He looks up at Villanelle, gasping with fright.

Villanelle wishes she’d stayed invisible, but now that she’s in plain view, she has little choice but to address the idiot sitting in the hallway. Gabriel, that’s his name, Villanelle remembers. “It’s very late,” she says.

“Please don’t report me for being out after curfew,” Gabriel sobs. “I got an owl from my uncle. My parents have died.”

“How?” Villanelle asks.

“F-floo powder accident,” Gabriel manages, then erupts into sobs even louder than before. “Now they’re gone f-forever.”

“Hey,” Villanelle says, crouching to sit next to him on the floor. “I’m an orphan too. And honestly, my life got way better after my parents died.”

“How can you say that? Don’t you miss them?”

“No. They were not nice people.” Villanelle has never shed a tear for her parents before, and doesn’t plan to start now. 

“Mine were,” Gabriel sniffs. “They were the best. It’s my fault they’re gone. I should’ve been with them, I should’ve been better, I should’ve…” He wipes at his eyes furiously. “I wish I was dead!”

“Really?”

“Yes. It hurts so much. I don’t want to be alive. I want to be with my parents.”

“Cheer up,” Villanelle offers. “Maybe you’ll get killed like that other boy from Slytherin.”

“I hope the murderer _does_ get me,” Gabriel moans. “That would be best.” His tears have slowed, and he finally notices what Villanelle is holding under her arm. “Is that an Invisibility Cloak?” he gasps.

Villanelle stands up, and offers Gabriel her hand. “You want to try it?”

“Really?” Gabriel stands, beginning to perk up.

“You bet,” Villanelle smiles, and drapes the Invisibility Cloak over both of them. “Let’s go for a walk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so much fun to write so far, but WOW it's also requiring a lot of time spent researching stupid small details on the Harry Potter Wiki. Not that I can complain, because that's a great way to procrastinate on writing.
> 
> What do you think? Let me know!
> 
> Or come share your hot HP takes with me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new victim leads to a new suspect, and both Eve and Villanelle try to piece together the involvement of one Aaron Peel in the string of murders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bigger than usual, because the plot is starting to pick up... hope you enjoy!

Eve is putting the finishing touches on a letter to Carolyn informing her of the productive start to the investigation when Hugo knocks on her door to let her know that another owl arrived bringing the news that another student has been killed.

“Good fucking morning,” Eve mutters, crumpling the letter. Phoebe hoots disapprovingly and flies away.

They hurry down to the school on foot – Eve wishes for about the fifth time in the short time she’s been on the case that it was possible to Apparate directly onto the Hogwarts grounds – and push their way through the large crowd of people clustered in the ground floor hallway.

Towards the center of the crowd, there’s a large circle of space, maybe thirty feet across, that’s empty except for Konstantin, standing over the dead body. Eve surmises that Konstantin must have conjured up a magical barrier to keep the curious students away from the corpse, a wise thought.

Konstantin notices Eve and Hugo and with a brief flick of his wand, parts the magical barrier just enough to let them inside. “Glad to see you on the scene so quickly, officers.”

Eve bites her tongue and allows Hugo to take the lead since he’s more capable of charisma at this early hour – and at any hour, if Eve’s being honest. “What do we know, Headmaster?” Hugo asks.

“Gabriel Belanger. Second year Gryffindor. Inside his robe we found a letter from his uncle. His parents passed away yesterday.”

“Poor kid,” Eve murmurs, observing the boy’s body, twisted up like a pretzel, as if he was writhing in discomfort until the end. The most obvious and unsettling clue is that his skin is dyed a faint shade of purple. 

“Reckon his parents’ death has anything to do with it?” Hugo wonders.

“Timing is odd, for sure,” Eve says. “Any witnesses?”

“The Head Boy of Slytherin, Aaron Peel, reported it to me at five-thirty this morning,” Konstantin says. “Now that you’re here, is there anything else I can do for you? Or do you need me to ‘keep off your dick’?” Konstantin raises an eyebrow and glares at Eve. Evidently Carolyn had passed on Eve’s message more literally than intended.

“I’m sorry about that. But look, I was a bit rankled by you treating me like such an outsider. Surely you can understand how that feels.” Eve fires the word at Konstantin like a shot, knowing it’s a risky move and might upset him, but her gamble pays off.

Konstantin sighs. “I apologize if I didn’t welcome you warmly enough, Ms. Polastri. If I come across defensively, it’s only because I care so much about this school and have a hard time trusting it to someone else.”

“I understand and I appreciate you saying that.” Now that she no longer categorizes him as an opponent, Eve sees Konstantin in a new light – sees the defeated slump in his shoulders, like he’s doubting his own qualifications to be Headmaster, sees the dark circles under his eyes, like he really has been losing sleep over these deaths.

“Let’s agree. No more tattling on each other to Carolyn, eh? And we will solve this. Together.” Konstantin extends his hand, and Eve shakes it.

“Now that you’re all friends,” Hugo begins. “Shall we see what we can learn from this body?”

“First off, the killer must know we are here,” Eve says, squatting down to get a closer look at the poor, purple teenager. “The last few deaths were rather spread out, and there’s another one on the second night we’re here? Our killer is making a statement.”

“What kind of statement?” Konstantin asks.

“They think they won’t be caught,” Eve says, standing up and drawing her wand. “But they’re wrong.”

“So? What’s the plan?” Hugo asks as he follows Eve striding confidently away. “You sound like you’ve got a new theory.”

“Nothing formed yet. But at least now we have more evidence to go on. Let’s hit the library, find out what curses or potions could turn someone’s skin purple.”

After a few minutes pushing back out through the crowds, they’re well on their way to the library before Eve feels a tap on her shoulder. She whips around, wand out, to see a thin boy in blue-trimmed robes standing behind her.

“Excuse me? Eve Polastri, right? Can I speak with you?” he stammers. He’s shaking and his eyes dart around like he’s expecting an ambush from all angles at once.

“Yes?”

After introducing himself as Dom, the boy blurts out, “Kenny told me that if I had some information that might help you, I should tell you. Even if it could um, implicate me, in other, um… malfeasance?”

“Are you asking for immunity?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dom says. “So do I get that?”

“Depends what you’ve done,” Eve says warily. 

“Not murder! Not anything close to that!” Dom assures them. “Less on the Azkaban level but more on the… year’s worth of detention or expulsion level.”

Eve exchanges a look with Hugo, then nods. “Whatever you say will stay between us.”

“So you know Kasia?” Dom says, beginning to turn red.

“We know Kasia,” Hugo confirms.

“Everyone thought when she died, that she forgot her limits and went too hard with the potions. But that’s not true.”

“How do you know?” Eve asks. Of course, she has leapt to this conclusion herself, but the idea of getting actual proof is enough to make her drool.

“I was her supplier.” Dom’s face turns a shade darker.

Hugo shakes his head. “You got her hooked? And took advantage of her?”

“Nothing like that!” Dom protests. “Look, it was all legal stuff. Pepper-Up Potions, Elixir to Induce Euphoria, or sometimes a good old Sleeping Draught. I was always good in Potions, and she was having a hard time and came to ask me for a favor…” Dom looks at the floor. “It was all supposed to be harmless. And it was!” His head snaps up again. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t any of the potions that did her in.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she quit. Earlier that week. She told me no more, she was going to go cold turkey, and even if she came back to me begging for more, I was to tell her no. And I said, good for you, and cut her off like she asked.”

“But what if she had a stash? Or another supplier?”

“I guess I can’t prove that she didn’t,” Dom says. 

“Why didn’t you come forward before?”

“Because I didn’t want to get expelled,” Dom admits, turning red. “At first, I was really scared it _was_ my fault she died. But after all these other murders, I realized it couldn’t be. But I still thought the Professors would expel me anyway.”

“What changed?”

“When I heard that Aaron Peel was the one who found that kid’s body this morning,” Dom begins. “Because the thing is, I saw him talking to Kasia, right before she died. He was really letting her have it about something. I was too far away to hear what they said, but he looked pissed, and she ran into the bathroom crying. And never came out again.”

Hugo gasps. “Yes!”

Eve breathes, “That’s a lead. Thank you, Dom.”

As soon as Dom is dismissed, Hugo explodes with energy. “I should’ve known it from the start. Aaron Peel is the killer. He’s got to be. _He’s_ the sort of person that gives Slytherin a bad reputation.”

“Excuse me?” Eve asks. “You know this kid?”

“He was a first year when I was a seventh,” says Hugo. “And thought – as a _first year,_ mind you – seriously thought he should’ve been Head Boy of Slytherin over me because of who his bloody dad is. Guess he finally got his wish after all."

“Who's his dad?”

“Alister Peel?” Hugo asks, full of disbelief. “Huge name in Magical security and tracking?” Eve nods with fake recognition so that Hugo will continue. “Anyways they’re rich as sin and Aaron thinks all his dad’s power is his. Plus, he’s a huge creep. I would not put murder past him, and I only knew him when he was fifteen… Imagine how much scarier he must be now…”

Eve has never seen Hugo this fired up. “We shouldn’t leap to any conclusions, but since he’s been placed near the scene of two of the deaths, it’s a no brainer. We have to talk to him, immediately.”

After a quick check to the student schedule, they find out that the seventh year Slytherins are currently in Defense Against the Dark Arts and storm down to the classroom immediately.

When Aaron Peel looks up as his name is called, Eve is able to put a face to the name for the first time: he’s a tall, fit young man with round glasses and dark hair combed so neatly, it looks like he probably used a microscope to check for flyaways. Eve has to admit, even from a first glance, there’s something vaguely unsettling in his gaze; his stare is arresting, like he’s mentally dissecting any person or thing his eyes land on.

Hugo apologizes profusely to Professor Pargrave as they take Aaron out of the room, and march him down to an empty classroom down the hall.

“Didn’t Headmaster Vasiliev relay to you everything I told him?” he protests. “Or are you simply so stumped that you need assistance to solve this murder?”

“Shut your mouth, Peel,” Hugo commands bitterly. “Don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Eve’s eyes widen, but she keeps her mouth pursed shut. Looks like she’ll have to play Good Auror to Hugo’s Bad Auror for today.

Hugo throws Aaron into a desk chair roughly and waves his wand to slam the classroom door shut. “Tell us why you were the one to find the body,” Hugo commands.

“I always wake up at five o’clock to go for a brisk walk around the grounds while there is still a shred of serenity about, before my peers awake and fill campus with their inane chatter. This is a well-established routine of mine and any number of other Slytherins can confirm it,” Aaron replies, quickly, automatically. Eve can’t help but notice that this speech sounds awfully prepared. 

“And you just happened to stumble upon the body?” Hugo’s tone drips with skepticism.

“Yes. As I climbed the stairs from the dungeons and emerged into the ground floor corridor, I spotted the body from some distance away. I approached and checked the boy’s pulse to confirm he was, indeed, dead. Then I went directly to the Headmaster’s office. If you were hoping for a much more exciting story where I caught a glimpse of the killer’s cloak disappearing around a corner, then I am sorry to disappoint.”

“Or maybe you didn’t see the killer because you are him,” Hugo blurts out. Eve shoots him a disapproving glare – even when playing Bad Auror, it’s poor form to throw out an accusation like that. Let the suspect talk themselves into it.

“Hawtrey, it both flatters and appalls me that after all these years, after graduating and finding yourself a job to keep afloat, you still feel threatened by me,” Aaron says, with sardonic pity dripping from his voice. 

“I’ve never been threatened by you in my life. I’ll threaten to jinx you to next Sunday,” Hugo growls. Eve steps in front of him and places a hand on his chest to push him back. One more outburst like that, and she’ll have to send him out of the room. 

Eve turns back to Aaron. “Thank you for the information. There’s one other bit we need to ask you about. We’ve spoken to another witness who places you near the time and place where Kasia Molkovska died.”

Aaron’s nostrils flare almost imperceptibly. “Who told you that?”

“That’s irrelevant. Care to tell us your side of the interaction?”

“I don’t recall,” Aaron says. “It must have been something insignificant.”

“It was significant to her,” Eve says. “Our witness says you yelled at her and she ran crying into the bathroom.”

“Dear God, this interrogation isn’t solely to let Hawtrey feel superior? Am I really your top suspect?” Aaron shakes his head in disbelief. “I had hoped for at least a shred of competence from our Ministry’s finest.”

Eve senses Hugo’s body tightening again behind her, and has to admit she’s starting to feel a bit irritated as well, but she takes a deep breath and says as calmly as she can, “You’ve been placed near the scene of two of the four deaths. All we are asking is, is there anything else you’d care to tell us about your altercation with Kasia before we go and find out on our own?”

Aaron sneers. “If you must know, I did let Kasia have it. Everyone knew she was an addict and frankly I didn’t care; if she wants to destroy her body like an embarrassing piece of trash, that’s her business. However, I drew the line when she started offering her potions to my sister. Trying to get her to sink to that level.”

“She offered your sister some of her mood-enhancing potions?” Hugo asks, deflating, disappointed that Aaron has a good explanation.

“Not ‘offered.’ Forced them on her. Dumped them and ran. She claimed she was trying to quit and had to get rid of her supply, and Amber being the pitiful fool that she is was only too glad to help the poor addict by taking the supply off her hands. But I won’t stand for it. Amber can’t be trusted with those substances, either. So I made my displeasure known to Kasia. I told her in no uncertain terms that I believed her to be the lowest kind of scum here at Hogwarts, and that if she ever came near my sister again I’d make sure our father crushed her family’s business.” Aaron delivers each sentence coldly, evenly. “It’s a pity if she was upset, but telling someone what an idiot they are is not a crime, unless a new law has recently been passed that I am unaware of.”

Despite herself, Eve hesitates. When Aaron refutes their accusation with such confidence, she feels almost embarrassed to have even brought it up. Is this really their strongest lead? Is it a lead at all?

Aaron adjusts his glasses and continues full-steam ahead. “Clearly, you two are in over your heads, so I will help you with your investigation by pointing out the blatantly obvious evidence that you have somehow missed: Gabriel, the poor child from last night? Based on his purple pallor, he was mostly likely poisoned with the use of Potion No. 07, a rarely used but deadly enough mixture, of which a key ingredient is Tentacula venom. Which, obviously, comes from the Venomous Tentacula plant, which is a Class-C non-tradable substance. Logically, this means whoever made that potion must have cultivated the Tentacula themselves.”

Eve glances at Hugo, whose rage has been usurped by interest. Apparently, Aaron doesn’t need a trip to the library to diagnose what poison had done Gabriel in.

“Have you thickheads put it together yet?” Aaron sighs with exasperation and continues, “Your killer, or at any rate, a close accomplice of your killer, is the Herbology professor.”

Eve and Hugo stand dumbstruck. Aaron stands and straightens out the lapel of his robe. “Am I free to go, officers?”

Eve nods, and Aaron powerwalks out of the room. Even his way of getting from one place to another is uptight and unpleasant.

As soon as the door creaks shut behind him, Hugo blurts out, “That little prick definitely did it.”

“Hugo…”

“Come on! What kind of psycho knows their poisons so well that they can diagnose it on the spot? He definitely did it and he’s taunting us because he’s _that_ awful.”

“I don’t necessarily disagree, alright?” Eve says placidly. “He’s still a suspect. But there’s not enough to arrest him on at this moment, so either way, we have to keep investigating.”

Hugo groans, “Don’t say it.”

Eve shrugs. “He may be a creep, but it’s still a good idea. We have to talk to this Herbology professor.”

* * *

  
Villanelle stretches out like a cat in the afternoon sun. Spring has officially begun, and the weather around Hogwarts has finally softened, with morning rains giving way to buttery sunshine later in the day. If Villanelle must study for her N.E.W.T.s, she’s at least going to do it out here on the grounds rather than in the dusty confines of the library, or the Gryffindor common room, which, although comfortable, is filled with annoyances like weeping children or Nadia and Diego making out.

Villanelle isn’t the only one taking advantage of the fine weather, and it isn’t long before she senses movement in her peripheral vision and flicks her gaze up from her Charms book to see a slight girl walking towards her. Shading her eyes from the glare of the sun, Villanelle squints at the girl and recognizes her as Amber Peel. Amber is pretty enough; though her hair always looks unwashed, her eyes are a light, mossy green that is brought out by the green accents on her Slytherin robes.

Amber sees Villanelle looking up at her and waves excitedly. Villanelle knows that Amber likes her, of course. She’s caught Amber staring at her enough times to be sure, and heard the flirting lilt when she says “Hi” to Villanelle in the halls.

For her part, Villanelle flirts back, though only a little. Enough to encourage Amber, but not so much as to escalate anything beyond casual flirting. Even though Villanelle is spoken for, her ego appreciates the occasional reminder that she’s wanted. Plus, one never knows when an admirer could become useful.

Amber shyly says, “Hello. What are you up to?”

“Not much.” Villanelle doesn’t give much for Amber to work with. Silence is power; letting Amber drive the conversation will let Villanelle learn the most without giving up anything.

“Studying for your N.E.W.T.s?”

“Yes.”

Amber sits down on the grass a few feet from Villanelle, apparently having decided that two sentences is enough introduction for them to be officially having a conversation. Villanelle doesn’t smile, but puts down her book, which is enough encouragement for Amber to perk up and continue excitedly, “Have you heard that another boy died?”

“I think so,” Villanelle says. “I saw the commotion on the ground floor but didn’t stop to look.”

“Those Aurors are having a fit over it. They’re totally stumped.”

“How do you know?” Villanelle asks, cursing herself for showing too much interest, but then, if Amber knows something – isn’t the whole point of entertaining her crush to get something out of it?

“They think my brother did it!” Amber confesses, with a nervous giggle. “They pulled him out of Defense Against the Dark Arts to interrogate him and everything. But there’s no way it was him. Not everyone likes him, and he doesn’t really like, well, anyone, but he’s not a killer.” Amber pauses, then adds, “Or if he was, they’d never find the bodies.”

“You think he’s capable of murder?” Villanelle prods.

“I was only joking,” Amber says. “But he’s not someone you want to cross. I’m more worried for the Aurors than for him. If they don’t back down soon, he might tell Daddy to crush them. Aaron doesn’t like to be challenged.”

“Why do they think it was him?”

“He was the one who… He came across that boy’s body this morning,” Amber says, carefully, but then adds in a rush, “But that doesn’t mean anything. He’s always up before anyone else, and anyways, why would he kill someone and then report it immediately? It doesn’t make any sense. The Aurors should see that.”

“Right,” Villanelle agrees. “And there’s no other reason?”

She senses the hesitation. Amber is holding something back. She leans forward and scoots her body across the grass, an inch or two closer to Amber. _Confide in me,_ her posture begs, _and you’ll be rewarded._

“Well…” Amber begins, clearly calculating the risk of giving up whatever information she had… but her mind is already made up. She knows it and Villanelle knows it too. “Someone tipped them off that he also was with Kasia right before she…”

“Died,” Villanelle offers.

“Was killed,” Amber corrects.

“Didn’t she overdose?” Villanelle asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“No,” Amber squeaks, then buries her face in her robe. 

“It’s okay,” Villanelle murmurs, coaxing Amber like a shy kitten. “You can tell me.”

Amber slowly peeks out from between her robe sleeves. “She quit, and gave all of her leftovers to me. Which is why Aaron went and gave her an earful. I feel so bad. If I hadn’t’ve let him find out… maybe she wouldn’t have run into that bathroom… Maybe the murderer wouldn’t’ve got her…”

Tears well up in Amber’s eyes, and she hides in her robe again. Villanelle hugs Amber and whispers, “It’ll be okay.”

“You think they’ll catch the murderer?” Amber sobs.

“I don’t know,” Villanelle says, honestly. 

The conversation with Amber lingers in Villanelle’s mind all throughout the afternoon and evening, even as she sneaks out with her Invisibility Cloak and heads to the Room of Requirement for her nightly meeting with Anna.

Villanelle is barely inside the door when she’s tackled by Anna, who hugs her tighter than usual. “You’re alright!”

Villanelle laughs. “Why wouldn’t I be?” As she leans into the embrace, she sticks her hand into her robe pocket and closes it around a hard-edged, walnut-sized stone, warm to the touch, brimming with magic. While her face bends forward to kiss Anna, she withdraws the stone and slips it into Anna’s robe pocket in one fluid motion. 

“I heard that another student was killed. A Gryffindor. And I knew you were out last night. You have no idea how frightened I was. I had to be shut up in that tower all day, teaching, and couldn’t come to check on you.” Anna hardly seems to notice the weight of the stone in her pocket, but Villanelle can already see some color returning to her cheeks, already hear her breathing come a little more easily.

“Couldn’t you look in your crystal ball and see that I am fine?” Villanelle teases.

“Don’t try to cute your way out of this one,” Anna says, sternly. “You need to start being more careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Villanelle replies, reaching up a hand to idly twirl one of Anna’s curls.

“Please,” Anna says. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Villanelle says. “I will be here, always. Because if I was gone, who would take care of you? Max?” Villanelle barks a laugh.

“Don’t say his name,” Anna snaps.

Villanelle turns away to stare at the wall of the Room of Requirement. It’s a boring wall. Grey stone. A few paintings of flowers. Apparently that is the kind of decoration the Room thinks is appropriate for a lovers’ meeting spot. She stares and stews until she feels Anna’s arms reaching around her shoulders gently.

“I’m sorry,” Anna whispers in Villanelle’s ear. “It’s hard on me. Keeping all these secrets. Our meetings. My… condition.”

“It’s okay,” Villanelle sighs, taking Anna’s hands and turning around again to look into her beautiful brown eyes. “I promise I will be careful, for your sake.”

“Thank you.”

Something has been nagging at Villanelle’s mind since the afternoon. “Do you know the Head Boy of Slytherin? Aaron Peel?” she asks, trying to keep her tone casual.

“I think so,” Anna says, then a spark of recognition in her eyes as she remembers the name. “Yes. He took Divination only for the one required year then took care to inform me he would not be continuing because he found it to be ‘imprecise and childish’. So I don’t know him much myself, but I have heard from the other Professors that he’s a top student in just about every subject.” She looks at Villanelle with curiosity. “What about him?”

“Do you think I could beat him?”

“Beat him?” Anna repeats. “At what, Quidditch?”

“At anything. At magic. Am I a more powerful wizard than he is?”

“That’s a silly question,” Anna says dismissively.

“Is it silly because the answer is obviously ‘yes’?”

“It’s silly because you’ve never cared about comparing yourself to other people before,” Anna says. “What’s gotten into that head of yours? Are these murders weighing on you?” Anna’s expression crumbles. “Or is it… this. Running around. Nighttime meetings. Losing sleep.”

“Never. This is what keeps me sane,” Villanelle says, taking Anna’s face in her hands and gently pressing her lips to Anna’s. 

Most people in Villanelle’s situation would indeed find it stressful, would find themselves constantly looking over their shoulder so as not to be caught in wrongdoing, or indeed, killed. Most people at Hogwarts are beginning to look over their shoulders. This murder mystery was seen as a fun diversion at first, but now with four victims, the gravity is starting to set in. As everyone realizes that they might be the next victim, the mood around campus is beginning to sink.

But Villanelle remains buoyant. Why shouldn’t she? She’s in love. 

Villanelle relaxes on the journey back to her dormitory knowing that Anna is taken care of, at least for a while. She seemed healthier than she had in weeks, with the glow back in her cheeks and the spark back in her eyes. As soon as her head hits her pillow, she falls soundly asleep.

In her dreams, she is adrift in a crowd, a sea of one thousand Annas. Brown curls as far as the eye can see. Villanelle bounces through the crowd, full of euphoria, until – was that right? She looks again, and the fabric of her dream has shifted, it’s gone – but for a second she saw an odd face out. Among the army of Anna Leonovas, there was one Eve Polastri.

But Villanelle never spots the intruder again, and forgets the whole dream as soon as she wakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? ;) Let me know in the comments!
> 
> OR follow me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable) for all my stupid ideas that don't make the cut to go into my fic


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for the source of the Tentacula Venom leads Eve on a series of interviews with different Professors. Villanelle must change her plans to soothe a nervous Anna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't help myself from writing this thing as fast as I can, since I want to get to the parts coming later!

The Hogwarts Greenhouses are the most normal part of Hogwarts that Eve has seen so far. Aside from the magical plants contained within, they’re rather like muggle greenhouses: glass walls, low ceilings, and rows and rows of plants on the ground, on shelves, and hanging from the ceiling. The effect is that traversing the greenhouses is rather like walking through a jungle. It certainly requires just as much awareness of the surroundings, since at least three different types of plants try to bite or grab at Eve as she makes her way to the back corner, where the Herbology professor is at work.

Professor Jin Ko is a very methodical woman who never makes eye contact with either Eve or Hugo as they speak, keeping her laser-focus instead on the dozens of potted Dittany plants in front of her. Evidently, she has too much to do to spare even a second focused on their interview, and continues snipping at the plants with small shears until they meet her satisfaction.

“So you’ve been at Hogwarts for fifteen years now, correct?” Hugo asks.

“Yes, Mr. Hawtrey, as you already know after having me as a professor.”

“Nice to know I’m memorable,” Hugo says with a smug smile.

“The time I had to save you from choking when you got your tie tangled up in a Devil’s Snare is hard to forget,” Jin replies, punctuating the story with a _snip_ of her shears. Eve has to throw her face into her sleeve to stifle her laughter.

“Right. Well, do you like working here?” Hugo says, trying to recover his confidence.

“Why don’t we skip the small talk?” Jin says. “You have questions about the investigation. Go ahead and ask them.”

“We’re here because the latest victim was poisoned by a potion that includes Tentacula venom as a major ingredient,” Eve says. “We were wondering if you knew who on campus might have a Tentacula, or where they might have gotten it.”

“I grew the Venomous Tentacula,” Jin says, and Eve starts a bit at her forthcoming manner. “By special request, for Professor Leonova, of Divination,” Jin says.

“What was the reason for her request?” Eve asks.

“You’ll have to ask her,” Jin says, giving the Dittany leaf in front of her a discerning look before moving onto the next plant. 

“You didn’t at all question when she asked you for an untradable plant?” Hugo says, with disbelief.

“I respect the privacy of others in the hope that they will respect mine in return,” Jin says simply. “There’s little reason to suspect Professor Leonova has evil intentions. Besides, Tentaculas are harmless, provided the handler is skilled.”

“But the venom, as we have seen, can do a great deal of harm,” Eve rebuts. 

“Almost anything can be made deadly if combined with other ingredients,” Jin says. “Is there anything else I can help you with, or can I get back to work?”

 _Get back to work? Hasn’t she been working this whole time?_ Eve thinks. “That’s all we need for now. Thank you, Professor Ko.”

“Is it just me,” Hugo begins, as they start walking up the path back towards the castle, “Or the more we talk to people, the more it seems like everyone could be a murderer? I like Professor Ko, she was a great teacher, but that bit about respecting people's privacy so they keep out of her business sounds dodgy.” Hugo stops short and turns to Eve. “Reckon she could’ve harvested the venom before she handed the Tentacula over to Professor Leonova?”

“We can’t rule it out,” Eve replies. “But there are a few more trails I want to follow up on before we jump on any one theory. Jin made a good point about ingredients. The Tentacula venom is only one piece of the puzzle – the killer also needed to get the rest of the ingredients from somewhere, and to have the skill to mix the potion.” She checks her watch, then says to Hugo, “After we get some lunch, I’m going to go interview Professor Leonova, and I want you to go talk to the Potions master.”

“Professor Haleton? Do I have to?” Hugo whines. “He’ll keep me for ages. Lonely man.”

“Good. Learn everything you can about what’s in his stores, and get a list of what students and faculty have enough Potions expertise to make Potion No. 07. Investigate him, too. He seemed shifty to me.”

“Right-o, boss.”

Eve bids Hugo goodbye after lunch, declining his offer to help her find her way, but she ends up regretting it when she’s lost after only a few turns. The corridors must be playing tricks on her, because she thought she finally had her bearings in the castle, but after wandering around for ten minutes she’s forced to admit defeat and ask a passing student for directions to Professor Leonov’s room.

Once she arrives at the classroom and it looks familiar, she realizes her mistake. She’s about to turn around and leave, but Max Leonov has already seen her, and is already walking over to greet her. 

“Ms. Polastri! How wonderful to see you again!” He shakes her hand excitedly, then frowns. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’m under suspicion of anything.”

“No, it’s my mistake, I’m looking for your wife.”

“Is she the killer? That would be news to me,” Max says jovially.

“We’re following up on a new lead, have a few questions, that’s all.”

“I’m sure Anna will be happy to help you. I’d show you to her room myself, but there’s a large stack of ungraded papers that require my attention."

Eve feels like it would be rude to leave him alone so abruptly, abandon him to his grading, so she decides another minute or two of small talk will alleviate her guilt. “Papers on what?”

Max lights up. “Right now, we’re doing a unit on the intersection of myth and history. I gave the students a choice of a few myths that are based in magical history to write about.”

“Which one’s your favorite?”

“I’m partial to Prometheus.”

Eve never paid much attention in History of Magic when she was in school, plus it’s been years, but she recognizes that name from somewhere else. “Isn’t that a Muggle myth?”

“Yes, Muggles believe Prometheus was a god-like creature called a Titan, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to the humans, allowing us to advance. But we wizards know Prometheus was human, though he sought to become more. Instead of stealing fire, he stole magic, from other wizards, hoarding it all for himself, until he was the most powerful wizard the world had ever seen.”

“Less charitable than the Muggle version, huh?”

“Indeed. But his greed did not come without a price, for the myth goes that he stole so much magic that his body could no longer contain it, and he spontaneously combusted in a great flare that, some versions attest, was the spark that became the Great Fire of Rome.”

“So is it true?”

“That’s the question isn’t it, when it comes to all myths? I suspect some part of it is. But no scholars have been able to discover how exactly Prometheus supposedly took magic away from other wizards and made it his own, which is the most pertinent hole in the story. There are also many other conflicting accounts of what the true source of the Rome fire was. But at the very least, there was a man who, in some way, sought more than his fair share of power, and met a grisly end for it.”

“Sounds more like a parable to me.”

“Parables are what we make of history, when we forget the details, and try to shape it with our emotions,” Maxi says, then drifts off for a moment, lost in thought. Then, unprompted, he snaps back to reality and blinks like he forgot Eve was there. Eve wonders if he often makes a habit of lecturing an empty room about magical history. “Right! Yes. Sorry to keep you, Ms. Polastri, I tend to go on once I get started.”

“It’s alright. It’s interesting,” Eve says, forcing a smile, hoping it sounds genuine, though Max has already retreated into grading his essays. So much for her effort at being polite. She retreats out of the classroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

The second time around, Eve is careful to avoid any confusion by asking a student for directions to the Divination classroom. The corridors take pity on Eve this time around, as there are no more surprises when she follows the given directions, which lead her to the top of a tower with a trapdoor directly above her head. When she taps the trapdoor with her wand, it slides open and a ladder spills out.

“Hello?” Eve asks as she pokes her head up into the room. She sees a pair of feet approaching and, after climbing up into the room, is greeted with the full body of a woman with thick brown hair, wrapped in a dark gray cloak and blue shawl. “Professor Leonova?”

“Yes, and who are you?”

“Eve Polastri,” Eve says, scrambling up into the room properly and offering her hand. “Licensed Auror from the Ministry.”

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Polastri. My husband said only nice things about you.”

“Please, call me Eve.”

“And you can call me Anna,” she replies, walking over to one of the low tables set about the room and sitting down on a round cushion. “Please, join me, I was just brewing some tea.”

Eve sits down on the cushion across from Anna and is overwhelmed by what a relief it is to rest for a minute. She hadn’t noticed how much her feet hurt from walking all over the grounds until this moment. It’s been a long day of interviewing witnesses, and this classroom is pleasantly warm, so much so that Eve removes her cloak, and there’s some incense burning that smells like pine and cinnamon and _home._

The kettle begins to whistle, and Anna silences it with a quick wave of her wand to extinguish the magical flame it was sitting on. “Milk or sugar?” Anna asks as she stands to pour the tea.

“No thank you.” Anna returns with two porcelain tea cups and places one on its saucer in front of Eve. “How can I help you, Eve?”

“I was told that Professor Ko grew a Venomous Tentacula for you.”

“Yes,” Anna says. She nods to the direction behind Eve, and Eve turns around to see the plant in question tucked into the corner of the tower by the one small window. She walks over to examine it more closely. A mouth like a large flytrap sticks out of the top, and dozens of tentacles loll over the edges of the pot, twitching occasionally.

“Why did you request this plant?” she calls to Anna.

“I’ve had a real problem with Chizpurfles the past few months. They’ve been all over this room and they’re driving me mad.”

At that moment, as if on cue, Eve hears a tiny skittering sound, and sees a Chizpurfle, a small crablike insect, scuttling along the windowsill. The tentacula reaches out and snaps it up with an extended tentacle, dropping the bug into its fly-trap mouth, with a seemingly satisfied grin.

Eve recalls how her pet Crup got Chizpurfles three times, and each bout required weeks of powder treatments to get rid of. The small mites that feed on magic were a constant frustration to owners of Crups, Kneazles, or any other furry magical creatures. “This must be a nuisance,” she says. “Has the Tentacula helped?”

“Sadly, they persist, though the plant is eating well. I think there are fewer, at least.” As Eve returns to the table to her steaming teacup, Anna adds, “What else can I help you with?”

“That was my main question, actually,” Eve says. “But can I sit for a few minutes? It’s been a long day.”

“Of course!” Anna says. “You must be exhausted. I can’t imagine how much that job must weigh on you.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose to become an Auror,” Eve says, taking her first sip of tea. “I enjoy it, though.”

“How is Hogwarts treating you?”

“I swear this building has something against me,” Eve laughs bitterly. “On my way here, I ended up in your husband’s room by accident.”

“Did he talk your ear off about history?”

“A little,” Eve admits.

“That’s my Maxi,” Anna says with a wistful sigh. 

“It was interesting, though,” Eve tries to sound enthusiastic. “He brought up some good points about the line between history and myth.”

“Few people realize that the past and future are more similar than we give them credit for,” Anna says. “History is far less certain than we like to believe, while our futures are often plotted out far in advance, before we are even born.”

Eve forces a smile and a nod – she likes Anna so far, so she doesn’t want to get into a debate about the merits of Divination. Eve finds the notion of approximating the future to be basically a load of hooey, but it would be rude to say that to the woman who has made it her life’s work.

Eve drains her tea with one large sip, and grabs her robe, readying herself for the effort of walking once again, but before she can get up, Anna reaches for her tea cup, and asks, “May I?”

Eve is confused for a moment – isn’t it obvious that she’s finished? – But then she realizes Anna is asking to read her tea leaves. “You don’t need to do that,” she says.

“It’s my pleasure,” Anna says, looking into the cup, swirling it around a few times, and studying the pattern of the leaves closely. Eve waits impatiently. Anna furrows her brow and murmurs, “This is… I’m very sorry.”

“Bad news?” Eve quips.

“I hate to tell you this… Maybe I shouldn’t, but…” Anna looks up at Eve, eyes full of worry. “I see a falcon in your leaves, which represents a powerful enemy. If you keep investigating this case you will only meet your own doom.” Anna puts the cup down. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I should not have said anything.”

“It’s alright. I don’t put much stock in the leaves anyway,” Eve says.

Anna smiles at Eve, like she’s a child who has just declared that she has decided she doesn’t want to grow up. “I hope you are successful, Eve. Perhaps my reading was mistaken.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“Of course, Eve. Come and visit anytime.” Anna fixes Eve with one last look, which penetrates Eve to her very core; the hairs on her arms stand up, and she’s filled with a feeling that something is very wrong. Like she’s come home and found everything in her bedroom shifted just the tiniest amount from where she left it; like she’s found that someone else has slept in her bed.

The feeling of dread lingers as she climbs back through the trapdoor and slowly finds her way back to the Great Hall. She chalks it up to uneasiness about the case. For all the information her conversations have given her, Eve is no closer to solving the case than she was when she arrived at Hogwarts.

Could Anna be the killer, keeping the Tentacula in plain sight after using its venom? Or, as Hugo suggested, had Jin harvested the venom before giving the plant to Anna, and used it herself or given it to the killer in exchange for something? Or had the killer snuck into Anna’s classroom at some point to steal the venom unbeknownst to anyone else? Plenty of possibilities had presented themselves, but no certainties.

 _Patience,_ Eve reminds herself. Cases are rarely solved in a day. There are more clues, and she will find them.

She only hopes no one else has to die before she does.

* * *

  
Villanelle isn’t expecting another meeting so soon.

She’s sitting out on the grounds by the shore of the lake, nominally practicing her water-to-wine Transfiguration, but really spending more time skipping rocks, when a Pygmy owl swoops over and drops a small roll of parchment in her lap.

She unfurls it, reading, in elegant script: _Come to my classroom, now. We need to talk. A._

Ordinarily, Villanelle would be thrilled that Anna wants to see her again so soon, that she can’t wait for their midnight meeting; it’s rare that they get to spend any time together outside the dusty floral decor of the Room of Requirement, but the clipped nature of Anna’s message implies that something is wrong.

Has her sickness worsened? Is she dying at this very moment? Villanelle tries to put that possibility out of her head as she makes her way up to the castle, towards the Divination tower. Anna’s sickness, though they’re managing it, is the worst type of problem in Villanelle’s opinion. She prefers a problem she can fight, tackle head on, beat out of existence. This mysterious illness that the most experienced Healers at St. Mungo’s couldn’t identify is more ominous and more off-putting than any dragon, Dementor, or dark wizard could ever be.

When she climbs through the trapdoor, she is exuberant to find Anna alive, and still in the good condition Villanelle had left her in the night before, though she’s pacing back and forth across the small room anxiously.

“What’s wrong?” Villanelle asks.

“ _Everything_ is wrong. We must stop. We should never have started,” Anna repeats over and over to herself.

“Stop what?”

“All of it,” Anna says. “The sneaking around. The conspiring. The _killing._ ”

Villanelle knows something must be seriously out of sorts. Anna does not like to mention the killing, so much so that she’d burst into tears any time Villanelle so much as hinted at it, so they’d fallen into the habit of pretending as if it didn’t exist even when they were alone together.

“What brought this on?” Villanelle says, reaching out a hand for Anna’s cheek, but Anna grabs her hand and pushes it away.

“One of the Aurors came to talk to me today.”

“Which one?” Villanelle asks. “The man with the nice clothes or the woman…” Villanelle was about to say, “with amazing hair”, but thinks better of it.

“The woman. Eve Polastri.”

Good, now that Anna has mentioned the name, Villanelle doesn’t have to pretend not to know it anymore. “And did this Eve Polastri arrest you?”

“No, but–”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is,” Villanelle blinks innocently.

“It reminded me,” Anna says, shaking her head furiously, “We are doing something very wrong.”

“How can it be wrong, when we are saving a life?”

“How many lives can be sacrificed to save mine?” Anna says, eyes beginning to fill with tears, though she holds them back.

Villanelle hates to see Anna like this, making herself so unhappy. “You are worth more than any of them. Than all of them, combined,” Villanelle says, softly. “I would kill every single person in this school, if that is what it took to keep you here with me.”

“It’s gone too far – I can’t let you–” Anna buries her head in Villanelle’s shoulder, and Villanelle wraps her Arms around Anna. Even though this embrace is for Anna, not for her, Villanelle can’t help but breathe in deeply, take in Anna’s scent. It’s heavenly.

“Consider this,” Villanelle says, holding Anna tight. “People die anyway. They can die of old age, they could get killed by some other predator, or their life could help sustain something great. I am really doing them a favor. What greater purpose could a life have?”

Anna lifts her head, blinking away the few tears from her eyes. “You’re dangerous with words…”

Satisfied that Anna’s emotional state is stable for the time being, Villanelle redirects the topic to practicalities. “What do they know? Right now? Did you look?”

“They know nothing. They’re investigating the potion you used on Gabriel, they were asking after the Tentacula, but Eve believed everything I told her.”

Villanelle squeezes Anna’s arms reassuringly. “Then we are fine.”

“But how long until they figure it out?”

“They’ll never catch me. I am brilliant.”

“You’re _human,_ Oksana.”

At the sound of that name, Villanelle loses control for a moment, she explodes. “Not Oksana!” she bellows, louder than intended, and a couple of teacups sitting on the table spontaneously shatter.

Anna, though, is not frightened by the display. “Villanelle,” she corrects herself, softly, reaching out to run a finger down Villanelle’s cheek. Anna is perfect; she is the rock that tethers Villanelle, keeps her from flying away, becoming a hurricane in human form.

Villanelle takes a deep breath to steady herself. “I can handle these Aurors. Don’t you trust me?”

Anna sighs. “I know you too well.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know you’re going to do something rash.” She closes her eyes, pauses for a minute, then continues. “Please… I know I can’t stop you… especially in my condition. But…”

“‘Be careful’,” Villanelle says. “I know.”

Villanelle comforts Anna for a few more minutes until she’s satisfied that she’ll make it through the night, then heads back to her dormitory. She’s missed dinner, a mild annoyance, but she should be able to find a moment to grab food within the plan that’s coming together piece by piece in her mind.

Her stomach growls while she waits for the dormitory to clear, but in a stroke of good luck, it empties for a minute around seven-thirty, so she’s able to retrieve her Invisibility Cloak and sneak out without detection. 

Even with the Cloak, she usually prefers to wait until everyone else is asleep before sneaking around, because the odds of someone accidentally bumping into her while the hallways are full of people is just too great. She’s hungry enough to chance it this one time, taking care to dodge between the others in the hallway that can’t see her coming.

Her first stop is the Potions room, where Professor Haleton is sitting grading some papers. She removes her cloak and says a dry, “Hello,” making the Professor yelp like a house-elf. 

“Merlin’s beard! Where did you come from!” 

“Not important. I need a little something from your stock, again.”

“Again? What do you mean ‘again’? You shouldn’t be here!” he stammers.

“Still keep everything in the same spot?” Villanelle asks as she strides over to the door of the private potions store.

“I’m warning you! You’re in for a detention, and if you don’t stop – well, you’d better stop!”

Villanelle ignores him and looks through the shelves until she finds a flask of pre-brewed Polyjuice Potion exactly where she expected to. Ordinarily, when she needs a potion she’s happy enough to brew it herself, but Polyjuice Potion takes weeks from start to finish, and she’d rather not wait that long in this case. She snatches one of the flasks from the shelf and walks back towards the door.

“Put the potion down or I’ll have to use force,” Frank says, pointing his wand at Villanelle with a tremor in his voice as big as an earthquake. He’s so pathetic, Villanelle almost feels bad for taking advantage of him – almost.

“ _Obliviate,_ ” she says, with a flick of her wand. Usually, she avoids the use of Memory Charms, since they are finicky and not impossible to reverse, but she’s given enough to Professor Haleton at this point that it’s a wonder that he can remember his own name. By the time she swaths herself in her Invisibility Cloak and retreats out the door, he’s forgotten the whole incident, and probably thinks he fell asleep for a few minutes on his desk.

By the time she reaches Hogsmeade on foot, it’s past eight, and Villanelle is so hungry she could eat a Hippogriff. She pops into the Hog’s Head and orders herself a nice stew and pot pie which she polishes off in record time, then enjoys a butterbeer before dropping a few coins on the table and leaving.

Putting on her cloak once more, she approaches the Three Broomsticks and looks through the window. Eve and the other Auror are sitting at a table, drinks in front of them, in animated conversation. Villanelle wishes she could hear what they are saying, but it’s alright – she’ll get a chance to satisfy her curiosity soon enough.

She watches them for close to an hour, beginning to shiver standing outside in the dark by the time the two Aurors finally get up and head upstairs to their rooms. Villanelle forces herself to wait another ten minutes before sneaking inside, slipping through the door as the last patron leaves for the night.

The Three Broomsticks is rather lacking in the security department, which is convenient for Villanelle, but not an ideal way to run a business. If Villanelle were a person with ill intentions she could easily kill the two Aurors, or indeed anyone in the inn, right at this moment. 

Lucky for them, murder is no part of Villanelle’s plans tonight. With a quick Silencing Charm to mute her footfalls, she sneaks up the stairs and into the room that, based on her observations through the windows from outside, should belong to the male Auror.

She sees him lying on his bed, though still awake, and casts a Extra-Deep Sleeping Charm on him. Once he’s out and snoring, she lowers her cloak and takes a peek around the room. The armoire is full of fine robes of the highest quality materials. She puts one to her face and inhales – his cologne is strong, but a nice scent. Then, she checks inside the neck for a label, and sure enough, there it is: _Hugo Hawtrey._ Why is it that a grown man would need labels in his clothes? Does he forget his own name? Or, perhaps he’s so protective of his formalwear he doesn’t want to chance losing it. Villanelle can appreciate that level of possessiveness.

She creeps over to the sleeping Hugo and plucks a hair from his head – his hair isn’t bad, for a man. Rather thick and luscious. Now, she waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got to say: writing a mystery is harder than I thought. But it's also a blast! 
> 
> What do you all think? <3
> 
> as always you can come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable). I'm firmly in the grips of s3-anticipation-madness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Eve struggles with putting together the mismatched evidence for the case, and Villanelle tries to persuade Anna to give her something she wants, Eve and Villanelle meet again – in a way.

Eve won’t need a dose of Hangover-Gone potion this morning, since she learned her limits with firewhiskey and restrained herself accordingly, but she is still exhausted after the late night talking to Hugo last night. 

She putters around, changing from her pajamas into a comfortable sweater and a lightweight robe since the sun shining through the window heralds a warm spring day to come, gives Phoebe a quick good-morning stroke on the beak, and then prepares to head down to breakfast.

As soon as she opens her door, Hugo is standing there, leaning against the frame. “It’s about time.”

“Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack. How long have you been standing there?”

“Too long. Were you spending all that time fixing your hair? I’ve been meaning to ask, do you use Sleekeazy’s? Or is it a Hair-Thickening Charm get it that volume?”

Eve will never get over Hugo’s vanity. “It’s just like this,” she answers.

“Just ‘like that’.” He shakes his head. “Eve Polastri, you do not know how lucky you are.”

Eve notes that Hugo’s dressed in a fine silk shirt, and a rich blue robe. “Going somewhere fancy after this?”

“Please, Eve. You don’t need any excuse to look this good.” He flashes a brilliant, borderline predatory smile and gestures for her to lead the way downstairs. “Ladies first.”

They grab their usual table and order up some toast and eggs from Rosmerta. Hugo digs in with more fervor than usual, shoveling an entire fried egg in his mouth in one bite.

“I have to say,” Eve begins. “I’m at a bit of a loss with the clues we’ve got so far. I feel like we’ve been talking ourselves in circles.”

“How about starting from the beginning with a clear mind?” Hugo suggests, a piece of toast dangling from his mouth. “Go back and work through piece by piece.”

“Back to basics,” Eve murmurs. She has a habit of zooming in on the tiniest details of a case, growing preoccupied, and driving herself to near-insanity, so Hugo’s suggestion makes sense.

“Means, motive, opportunity,” Eve repeats to herself. That mantra was drilled into her in her years as a junior officer. Every criminal has all three, and as an investigator, you can use them to narrow down potential subject.

Means: does the suspect have the practical means to have committed the crime? The ability, the tools, the personal capacity?

Motive: does the suspect have a plausible, nay, compelling reason to have committed the crime?

Opportunity: could the suspect have been present at the time and place where the crime was committed?

Hugo nods slowly, still fixed on his toast.

“If we put your friend Aaron to the test,” Eve begins, “He passes the means test, easily. He was first on the list of of skilled Potions students you got from Professor Haleton, and if we add in the fact that he’s highly ranked in every subject, plus his family being rich – well, he could get his hands on pretty much anything with that kind of money. As far as opportunity goes, we know he was near at least two of the deaths; one of the others was a student in his house, so that’s easy enough, and he was enrolled in Professor De Mann’s limited lecture series.”

“So you think it’s him, then?”

“I’m still stuck on motive,” Eve says. “My gut told me from the beginning, this murderer had no motive beyond… fun. Power. Thrill seeking.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Really?” Eve is taken aback. “I expected you to say ‘that sounds just like Peel, that clinches it’.”

Hugo leans forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Do you really think _anyone_ would kill four people without a really good reason?”

“Like what?”

“Like love,” Hugo suggests, plainly.

“Love?” Eve laughs. “Not sex?”

“That too,” Hugo says, waggling his eyebrows.

“That sounds more like the Hugo I know. So who do you think Aaron’s in love with?”

From her limited experience with him, Eve struggles to imagine Aaron caring that much about anyone other than himself. Maybe his sister – he was awfully mad about Kasia giving Amber the potions, but there’s no apparent connection between Amber and any of the other victims.

“What’s all this about Aaron? I thought we were going back to the beginning.”

“Okay,” Eve says, surprised at Hugo’s maturity. She didn’t expect him to give up on the Aaron thread so quickly. “We have four murders. Lots of suspects. No motive.”

“Does it drive you mad?” Hugo asks suddenly. “Not knowing.”

“It’s part of the job,” Eve replies, slowly, obviously.

“But does it drive you mad?”

“A little,” Eve says. “But it’s worth it for the moment when the not-knowing turns into knowing.” Eve lives for that eureka moment, the serene epiphany when all the pieces of a case come together and she feels, for an instant, like the most powerful being in the universe.

“What if it never comes?”

“Jeez, when did you get so pessimistic?”

“I’m trying to understand _your_ motive.”

There’s a tapping noise at one of the windows, and Eve glances over to see a Great Grey owl at the window with a letter. Rosmerta goes to open the window and retrieve the letter, offering the owl a treat for its services, then reads the address. “It’s for you, Eve.”

Eve opens the envelope to find a letter on the thick, cream stationery bearing the Ministry letterhead.

_Eve,_

_Another murder while you are present on campus does not bode well for Hogwarts or your career with the Ministry._

_Please send an update on progress of the investigation at your earliest convenience._

_Carolyn Martens_   
_Minister of Magic_

  
Eve’s chest tightens and she fights the urge to tear the letter in half. “My motive is to solve this case before Carolyn decides she gave me one too many chances,” Eve says, standing and withdrawing her wand to levitate her dirty dishes back over to the bar.

Hugo leans back in his chair to watch. “Has your wand been behaving?”

“You’re full of questions today,” Eve notes.

“I’m investigating.”

“Investigating _me_?”

“Yes,” Hugo says with a light smile.

Eve eyes Hugo suspiciously. “Are you trying to shag me again?”

“That depends. Would you say yes?”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Mr. Hawtrey,” Eve says, retrieving the letter from the table. “Okay, I need to figure out how to respond to this letter in a way that doesn’t get me fired.”

“Easy,” Hugo says, moving behind Eve and leaning down over her shoulder to read the letter. “Tell her you’re closer to the killer than ever before.”

Eve is about to reply about the uselessness of lying to Carolyn, expert bullshit detector, when she notices Hugo sniffing her hair.

“You should wear it down,” he says, with a strange softness in his tone.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I’m starting to miss when you were just in a funk about Aaron,” Eve says, leaning away from Hugo. “I seriously need to come up with a good way to spin this to Carolyn. You can head down to the school and get a head start if you want.”

“What time is it?” Hugo asks.

“Quarter past,” Eve replies.

“Yes, I’ll leave, that sounds good,” Hugo says, heading for the door. “Until next time.”

“It shouldn’t take long. I’ll see you by ten, probably,” Eve says, but Hugo is already out the door. At least Eve will get some peace to work out how to write this letter now.

She heads back upstairs to her bedroom, sitting down at the small dresser-slash-vanity-slash-desk with a sheet of paper and a pen (she will never understand British wizards’ fascination with feather quills). 

“What do I tell her, Phoebe?” Eve asks. “That we have a bunch of clues, but none seem to connect in any way? That every person we’ve met so far seems equally suspicious and equally innocent? That we’re hardly any closer to solving this case than when we started?”

Phoebe hoots in a tone that Eve chooses to interpret as encouragement.

Eve begins draft after draft, but when she doesn’t slip into passive aggression, she has absolutely nothing of substance to say about the investigation. She glances at her watch, realizing she’ll be late for her supposed promise to meet Hugo at ten. Oh well, he can survive, and this will give him more time to work out whatever weirdness he has in his system.

Deciding it’s time for a break, she paces over to the small mirror in the corner of her room and assesses her hair. She takes her curls for granted, and it rarely occurs to her that some people – people like Hugo – might spend considerable time and magic trying to achieve what she has naturally. She reaches up and looses her hair from its bun, letting it fall to her shoulders. Maybe taking fashion advice from Hugo isn’t the worst choice, she considers as she admires her new look; he’s a pretty stylish fellow.

Eventually, she returns to her desk, but her procrastination hasn’t provided her with any new insights on how to compose this letter. She’s seriously considering sticking her pen in Phoebe’s talon and asking her to write the letter since she’d probably be better at it, when there’s a knock at her door, and she hears a rush of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” from outside. Hugo’s voice.

 _What did he do now?_ Eve wonders as she goes to the door. She’s greeted with an odd sight – Hugo’s still in his pajamas, hair rumpled, not coiffed to its usual level of fluff. After all his talk about hair products this morning, it’s even more shocking. 

“I overslept, I don’t know what happened. I’ll get dressed in a minute but here’s your fair chance to let me have it,” Hugo says, running his fingers through his bedhead.

“You overslept,” Eve repeats, feeling adrenaline start to rush through her veins.

“Yes, but there’s plenty of day left – why do you look so freaked?” Hugo asks, as he notices how wide Eve’s eyes have gone, how her whole body is beginning to tremble.

“I think I met the killer,” Eve whispers.

  
After Hugo returns in proper clothes, Eve relates the morning’s events to him.

“This is downright spooky,” Hugo murmurs, sitting down on Eve’s bed. “They must’ve done something to keep me asleep, and _oh my God_ ,” Hugo moans, “the thought of Aaron Peel in my bedroom makes me want to rip off my skin and burn it.”

Fixated on Aaron Peel as the killer again? This is definitely the real Hugo, Eve notes.

“Let’s focus on the positives,” Eve says, struggling to take her own advice, since she’s also feeling rather skeeved out at the moment. “What can this tell us about the killer?” Eve goes through the checklist in her head: means, motive, opportunity. “First clue: the killer has access to Polyjuice Potion.”

“But we already knew the killer has to be good at Potions,” Hugo interrupts.

“They also must have some means of sneaking around without detection. How else could they get into your room without you noticing?”

“I’m a bit of a heavy sleeper, even without magical interference,” Hugo admits.

As always, the kicker is motive. “I’m going over the conversation in my head, and I don’t understand why they would’ve done this,” Eve says. “It’s a lot of trouble to go through to talk to me for a few minutes. And they hardly got much information out of it.”

“Are you sure you didn’t reveal anything else, besides that Aaron’s a suspect?”

“And that we were investigating the use of Potion No. 07. There isn’t much else to reveal,” Eve says, bitterly. That’s the whole problem stopping her from responding to Carolyn’s letter, after all.

“Do you reckon it was pure chance that the killer chose to impersonate me?” Hugo asks, the seedling of an idea budding in his eyes. “When they could’ve turned into you instead and got the same information from me. I know I’m handsome, but still…” Hugo glances at Eve. “I think the killer is interested in _you._ ”

Eve swallows. “Interested in me? Why?”

“I don’t know. But based on what you told me…”

Eve replays snippets of the conversation in her mind. _“I am investigating.” “What’s your motive?”_ And the hair sniffing – Eve already found that unsettling when she thought it was Hugo doing it, but now…

Then, it hits her. 

“Hugo, show me that list of students that Professor Haleton gave you.”

Hugo checks his pockets, then grabs his wand and says, “ _Accio_ list.” After a few seconds, the slip of parchment comes whizzing through the door from Hugo’s bedroom, and lands in his hand. 

Eve takes the paper from him and scans the list of names written in Professor Haleton’s messy scrawl. Aaron Peel, unsurprisingly, is first on the list, which led Eve and Hugo through the very circular debate they’d gotten into last night, so much so that they hadn’t spent much time considering any of the other names. Eve spots Dom’s name, and Kenny’s as well, though she doesn’t think either of them are likely to be the killer. 

Then, towards the bottom, there is the name she was looking for. _Villanelle Astankova._

Eve looks up at Hugo and takes a deep breath. “I know who the killer is.”

* * *

  
Villanelle strides out the door of the Three Broomstick at a brisk pace. If the time Eve told her is correct, she only has a few minutes left until the Polyjuice Potion wears off, and she’d rather not get caught turning back into a woman in the middle of Hogsmeade.

She sneaks around the corner of the building and digs in the small shrub on the ground outside Hugo’s window where she stashed her clothes and her Invisibility Cloak. She envelops herself in the Cloak, and she’s safely invisible and on the path back to Hogwarts as she feels her flesh begin to rearrange itself back to its normal form.

It’s not her first time using Polyjuice Potion, but she always has mixed feelings about the transformation. Physically, it’s odd, and a bit unsettling, especially to be in a man’s body, but the psychological element of it? To be so close to someone – to Eve – and to have them none the wiser, is a thrill that Villanelle has to admit isn’t matched by any other kind of magic.

Her hair grows back out to its usual long blonde syle, her height shrinks back a few inches, and her breasts return by the time she’s halfway back to Hogwarts. She pauses and diverts briefly down to the lake to change back into her own clothes.

It’s a shame: Hugo has great taste, and Villanelle seriously considers keeping his clothes, except that now that she’s back in her own body, they’ll never fit her properly. She tosses them on the rocky beach and mutters “ _Incendio,_ ” to burn away the evidence.

She’s missed her second meal in a row at the Great Hall, but it’s no issue this time since she’s quite satisfied with the breakfast she got at the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta fries a fine egg; Villanelle will remember that for the future.

She sneaks into Charms with her Invisbility Cloak, reappearing at a desk in the back of the clasroom when no one is looking, and pretends she’s been there the whole time – not that Professor Pierson, or as many students call her behind her back, “Big-Tits-Gemma”, is likely to notice. The day passes without incident, and no one suspects that Villanelle spent the morning in Hogsmeade.

Villanelle is altogether quite pleased with how the plan came off. Anna, on the other hand, is not so pleased when Villanelle greets her in the Room of Requirement that night.

“How was your day?” Villanelle asks cheerfully.

“My day was fine,” Anna says. “But I saw Professor Haleton at lunch, and he was not having a nice day at all. He was very preoccupied, worrying about why a flask of Polyjuice Potion has gone missing from his stores, and why he can’t remember anything after dinner last night.”

“How sad for him,” Villanelle says, with an exaggerated frown.

“He doesn’t plan to report it missing, fearing the trouble he’ll get in if it was used for nefarious purposes,” Anna says, giving Villanelle a pointed look.

“Oh, it wasn’t nefarious,” Villanelle says. “I only had a little fun with the Aurors.”

“An unnecessary risk,” Anna chides her. “Especially when I already told you they know nothing. What else is there to be learned?”

“I learned that Eve is one mistake away from getting fired,” Villanelle says. “And I wouldn’t have to go to such lengths if you’d teach me Legilimency.”

Anna gets a grave look on her face. “We have discussed this before.”

“Let’s discuss again.”

“Legilimency is not the same as Occlumency,” Anna says, “It’s at once more aggressive and more vulnerable. It is incredibly draining.”

“Why don’t you think I can handle it?”

“The ability to look into minds, peruse memories…” Anna hesitates. “It is a great power, but also a great responsibility. It can easily be abused. And it can easily backfire on you.”

Villanelle feels the frustration burning inside of her, of seeing something she wants and being refused. It’s a familiar spark that if she ignores, will catch fire and cause her to explode. It would be so easy to ignore it, and God, it tempts her sometimes. She has enough power within her to blow down all the walls, make off with whatever treasures she wants from this world.

And she might, if the person standing between her and what she wants was anyone other than Anna. Instead, she inhales deeply, digs her nails into her palms, and remembers all the principles Anna has taught her. _Clear your mind. Become a blank wall. An empty vessel. An impenetrable well of nothingness. A void. The void cannot be harmed. Anything you throw at it will be swallowed by the nothingness, leaving no trace._

“I can take it,” she insists, keeping her voice even, focusing on the void.

“It’s not you,” Anna says. “The shape I am in… I couldn’t teach you now, even if I wanted to.”

Villanelle feels the spark inside her fizzle and unclenches her fists. Anna diverts their conversation back to the mundane and Villanelle tries, honestly tries, to forget the issue and move on.

But it itches at her brain all night. She loves Anna. She trusts Anna. She will do anything for Anna – so why can’t Anna give her this one thing that she wants, that she’s ready for? Yes, Anna has enumerated her various reasons, but none of them hold enough weight for Villanelle to believe them. 

Except the sickness. The stupid sickness. As soon as that thought bubbles up, Villanelle pushes it away. It’s being taken care of. Soon, their makeshift treatments will eliminate Anna’s symptoms, Villanelle is sure of it. She can’t bear to think of the alternative. And then, once Anna is back to full strength, she will get what she wants. She can be patient, for a little while.

Instead of going right to bed, Villanelle heads to the showers – she likes showering in the middle of the night, when no one else is around. The cavernous stone bathroom is eerie in the dark, but she likes the way the water echoes in the large empty space. The drumming of the stream of water against the stone floor helps drum the thoughts out of her head. Helps her become the void. 

She’s been leaning on her Occlumency techniques a lot, lately. There are many factors threatening to beat down her carefully constructed walls, and she could run from them… but she’s always been curious, so the solution has been to run headlong towards them, but strengthen her walls to handle the new stress.

Her hands slip along her soapy skin and she is once again grateful to be back in her own body. She must feel every inch of her body. Focus on the physical. Let go of the distractions buzzing around her brain like a swarm of Billywigs… 

Chief among the distractions: Eve Polastri.

Eve Polastri, who wields the twin to Villanelle’s wand. Eve Polastri, who insists her hair is ‘just like that’ with no magical assistance. Eve Polastri, whose presence at Hogwarts is an inherent threat to Villanelle.

But there’s a tiny hope within Villanelle that she can’t understand, yet increasingly, can’t ignore, that wants Eve to catch her.

She wants Eve to know what she’s done, but she doesn’t want to be thrown in Azkaban. Most people would declare these two wants to be incompatible and throw their hands in the air, but Villanelle is not most people. She knows there must be a way to have her cake, and eat it too – steal someone else’s cake, for example.

Long after her body is clean, she lets the hot water beat against her skin, thinking of what to do about Eve Polastri, Eve Polastri, Eve Polastri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm (re)listening through the whole Harry Potter series on my commutes now, currently on Goblet of Fire.  
> What is y'alls favorite HP book?
> 
> As always let me know what ya think in the comments, or find me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve begins the hunt for more evidence on her newest suspect, and Villanelle begins the hunt for her next victim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my face when i realize this fic is almost as long as my other completed fics and it's only halfway done 🥴

“Explain to me why when _I_ suspect someone, I’m jumping to conclusions, but when you do, it’s fact?”

Hugo has been complaining non-stop ever since Eve declared that they’d switch their focus to investigating Villanelle Astankova. Truthfully, Eve is jumping to conclusions, a little, as she’s been known to do on past cases. But with every passing instant since her ‘a-ha’ moment, she feels more and more certain that her gut is correct, and that they’ll find more incriminating evidence by investigating Villanelle. 

She takes a deep breath and prepares to put Hugo’s whining to rest. “You, or rather, the killer in your body, asked me if my ‘wand was behaving’,” Eve says, as they ascend the staircase to the Headmaster’s office. “A very odd thing to ask out of the blue. The only time my wand wasn’t behaving was when it wasn’t my wand, and the only people that knew about the accidental wand swap were you, and…”

“And your wand twin herself,” Hugo says. “I have to admit, it makes sense. But it’s hardly enough to convict her on.”

“Which is why we’re going to learn more about our new prime suspect until we do find something to convict her on,” Eve says. 

“Whoever the killer is, they took my favorite robe, so add that to the list of crimes,” Hugo says, twitching his nose in annoyance.

“I’m sure that’ll rank right up there with the murders.”

They edge past the gargoyle that guards the entrance to Konstantin’s office to find the Headmaster seated at his desk writing at a large scroll of parchment. When he notices their entrance, he removes his reading glasses and taps the parchment with his wand to make it curl itself up into a neat roll. “Good morning, officers. Any breakthroughs?”

“A big one,” Eve says. “We have a strong lead, and need your help to follow up.”

“Of course,” Konstantin says, beckoning for them to sit down in front of his desk.

Eve sits. “What can you tell us about Villanelle Astankova?”

Konstantin’s welcoming look instantly evaporates. “Why do you need to know about her? It’s not her.”

“We’re only investigating–”

“She has nothing to do with these killings,” Konstantin says, with a tone that says the matter is closed.

Hugo learns forward, turning on his charm. “We understand she’s a special case for you, we’re only trying to be thorough. If you could tell us the facts about her, and her past, it would really help.” He purses his lips, adding, “If you are sure it isn’t her, the more you tell us, the faster we will agree with you.”

Konstantin exhales through his nose, face set in a scowl, but then relents. “Her childhood? Awful. Parents killed by a dark wizard. I found her in a Muggle orphanage. She didn’t fit in, didn’t have any idea of how to control her magic. No one to teach her. She had a rough time adjusting here. I had to work very hard to help her accept that Hogwarts was a safe place for her. I would hate for her to be made to feel unwelcome by baseless accusations.”

Eve pipes up, “It’s not exactly baseless…”

But she’s cut off by a low growl emanating from Konstantin’s throat. “I hope you take me at my word, Ms. Polastri,” he says. “Or else it may put a strain on our friendship.”

Eve swallows her pride, smiles, and apologizes in her best imitation of Hugo’s typical ass-kissing displays. Why fight with Konstantin when there are other ways to find out what she needs to know?

  
Kenny is speechless when they accost him in the Great Hall for the second time, but once they explain the situation, he’s willing, and even a little excited (in his subdued, Kenny way) to help them with the case.

As soon as classes end, Kenny meets them in the library, leads them over to the circulation desk, which appears to be empty, but Kenny says, “Hello, Madam Felton.”

“Oi!” A woman pops up behind the counter, a book in each hand, bursting with energy. “These are the two Aurors I’ve heard so much about?”

“Eve Polastri, and this is my colleague Hugo Hawtrey,” Eve says.

“Elena Felton, and don’t you dare call me Madam,” Elena extends a hand to shake with Eve, then Hugo. 

“Alright if I show them what’s in the back room?” Kenny says, and Elena pulls out her wand and flicks it to raise the barrier of the counter, beckoning for the three of them to come behind the counter, then through a door into her office.

“Behold Kenny’s special project,” Elena says, extending an arm towards the desk in her office, surrounded with candles, like a shrine.

“What in Merlin’s name is that _thing?_ ” Hugo asks.

Eve gasps, then starts to laugh with delight. She has enough experience with the Muggle world to recognize the object on the desk, with its translucent magenta and gray case and its glass screen, as a desktop computer – one of the old Macintosh ones from the turn of the millennium. “That is really fucking cool. How do you get it to work with all the magic around?”

“Most people think Muggle technology is incompatible with magic because it always goes haywire when they’re together,” Kenny says, “But electricity, magic, it’s all just energy, so if you ask all the energy to play nicely, you can get the best of both worlds.”

Upon closer inspection, Eve notes a few differences between this and the old Macintosh that Niko’s parents had in their study – a few tubes of blue potion flowing out from the back, some glowing crystals set into the keyboard. “He’s being humble,” Elena adds. “This kind of work is completely cutting-edge, miles ahead of what anyone else has done. You’ll be rolling in the Galleons once you patent this, Kenny.”

Hugo makes a face like he’s smelled a fart. “How’s this box supposed to help us?”

Eve would’ve made fun of Hugo for his complete ignorance of Muggle technology, but Kenny ever-patient, explains, “It’s called a computer. Muggles use them to store, process, and exchange large amounts of information. Basically, this ‘box’ has more inside it than the entire library out there.”

Hugo still appears skeptical, but nods for Kenny to demonstrate. Kenny boots up the computer, and Eve immediately notices that the magical integration has improved its functionality over the obsolete machine it once was – the screen lights up in full color and detail, like real life, and all the images on screen move of their own accord, just like all wizard photos. 

“Here we go,” he says, with another few clicks. “Here’s all I have on Villanelle Astankova. Scraped from the school records. Legal name: Oksana Anatolyevna Astankova. Headmaster Vasiliev found her in an orphanage in Moscow at age fourteen, brought over here in the first batch of his cultural exchange.” The screen lights up with a school portrait of Villanelle, smiling like she has a secret, blinking and raising one eyebrow every so often. 

Eve fixates on the list that appears next to the portrait. “What are all these incidents?”

“Her first couple years she had several… outbursts,” Kenny says, scrolling through an alarmingly long list of incidents, all dated five and six years ago. “Used magic on other students when she got ticked. Never killed anyone, mind you, but in our second year she jinxed one boy so badly, he had to go to St. Mungo’s to learn how to walk again.”

Eve shoots a look at Hugo. “Funny that Konstantin didn’t mention any of that.”

“Any other student would’ve been expelled,” Kenny says, “There’s no doubt that because she is one of Headmaster Vasiliev’s, she got more chances. But in all fairness, it stopped completely our third year.” Kenny scrolls so that Eve can see the list of incidents abruptly ends. “I reckon she was running out of chances, even with her special status, but then she suddenly got better, became excellently behaved. She also stopped answering to Oksana and asked to be called ‘Villanelle’ instead.”

“Why did she turn around so suddenly? What changed?”

“It doesn’t say in the record.”

“I’m asking _you,_ ” Eve says. “You’ve been at school with her all these years.”

“I’ve never talked much to her.”

“Who else knows her well, besides Konstantin?”

Kenny knits his eyebrows together. “Even since she turned around, not many people care to talk to her. I guess the one person who might know her best is Nadia Kadomsteva. Another one of Konstantin’s projects. She came from the same orphanage, so I suppose she’s known Villanelle longer than anyone else here.” 

“Kenny, I could kiss you,” Eve says. Kenny flushes scarlet. “But I won’t.”

  
On Kenny’s advice, Eve and Hugo head down to the Quidditch pitch to the Gryffindor team practice. Hugo enthusiastically chatters about all the great games he played on this very pitch back in his days at Hogwarts, and Eve mostly tunes him out. She vaguely knows the rules to Quidditch, but doesn’t care much for it, since it’s not as popular in the United States.

Once there’s a break in the action, they flag down the petite brunette Chaser, Nadia. But before Eve can so much as introduce herself, a broad boy with floppy hair follows her over and says loudly, “Are they bothering you, pumpkin?”

“We need to ask Nadia a few questions,” Eve says. “About our investigation.”

“You can’t,” the boy replies.

Eve suppresses the urge to snort at his shameless audacity. “Who are you to say we can’t?”

“Diego…” Nadia cautions him.

“Shh, I’ll handle it, pumpkin,” he looks Eve up and down and scoffs. “As the team captain, and her boyfriend, I say you don’t get to bother her while we’re at practice.”

“How’s Gryffindor doing in the standings this year?” Hugo suddenly asks Diego.

“One more win over Hufflepuff and the Quidditch cup is ours,” Diego says proudly.

“You may not realize it, but you’re looking at the greatest Chaser Slytherin had in the past twenty years,” Hugo says. “How confident are you as a Keeper, mate?”

“Nothing gets past me,” Diego says, puffing out his chest.

“A Galleon says I can score on you three times inside a minute.”

“I’ll take that action,” Diego says.

“Mind if I borrow your broom, love?” Hugo asks Nadia, who gives him a strange look, but hands over her broom, and Hugo kicks off, racing up into the sky with Diego following close behind.

Eve has to hand it to Hugo; he played Diego’s thick-headed ego perfectly. Now, she’s alone with Nadia, who, Eve is amused to note, also relaxes once Diego is gone.

“I have a few questions for you about Villanelle Astankova.”

Nadia shrinks back as soon as she hears the name. “I can’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know much about her.”

“Didn’t Konstantin find the two of you at the same orphanage in Moscow?”

“Yes, but… We do not speak anymore.”

“Why is that?”

“Same reason no one else speaks to her. She has something… off… inside her.”

“But you used to speak, before?”

Nadia blinks, uncomfortably, as if she regrets any interactions they had. “My English was not so good at first. She was the only person I could talk to, besides the Headmaster.”

“She was still going by Oksana at that time, correct?”

“Yes.” Nadia’s eyes dart around, beginning to look suspicious. “Why do you need to know any of this?”

“Do you know why she wanted to change her name?”

“No,” Nadia says. “But she is very touchy about it. Don’t call her Oksana to her face, or you’ll regret it.”

If nothing else, all of these interviews paint Villanelle as someone with a capacity for violence. But Eve knows she’s still missing the key piece that will bring it all together. “Do you have any idea what made her change her behavior in her third year, and stop her violent outbursts?”

“I…”

“Please, Nadia. It’s very important to our investigation.”

“She can’t know that I told you,” Nadia says.

“Of course. This conversation will stay between us.”

Nadia sets her jaw. “Everything changed when she met Professor Leonova.”

Eve opens her mouth to continue, but she’s cut off by the twin thuds of Hugo and Diego landing on the ground next to them.

“Four goals. Still got it,” Hugo says, adding a twirl of his broom for an extra flourish.

“He cheats. Rules must have been different back then, old timer.”

“Watch who you’re calling old-timer!” Hugo protests. “I’m way younger than Eve!” He holds out the broom to Nadia. “That Firebolt is a smooth ride. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Eve still has about a dozen more questions she’d like Nadia to answer, but knows that she’s unlikely to get any other useful information with the idiot boyfriend’s presence, so she shoves them down, counts the experience of a win, and sits in the stands to debrief with Hugo. 

“Thanks for showing off back there, it was perfect.”

“Anytime,” Hugo says. “So what did you find out?”

Eve relays the conversation to Hugo, finishing with the kicker: “Everything changed when she met Professor Leonova”.

“I smell a secret,” Hugo says, rubbing his hands.

“Looks like I’ll have to have another chat with my old friend Anna.”

* * *

Villanelle didn’t think she’d have to kill someone tonight.

She is playing the part of model student exceptionally well. Konstantin would be extremely proud if he could’ve seen how she was the first to successfully change a teapot into a tortoise in that morning’s Transfiguration class, or the incredible patience with which she endured her Potion partner’s incompetence in the afternoon. For such a goody-two-shoes day, she decides that she deserves a reward in the form of a quick diversion to Anna’s room before a boring evening of studying.

“Knock knock,” she says aloud as she pokes her head up through the trapdoor.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” Anna says. She’s in a better mood than Villanelle expected – usually, when Villanelle comes to meet her in the daylight hours, unannounced, she loses her head, babbling about _what if someone sees_.

“I’ve been a very good girl and I need someone to shower me with compliments,” Villanelle says, making herself comfortable on her favorite velvet pouf at one of the low tables. 

Anna’s face fills with an exasperated yet warm smile. “Tell me what you’ve done and I will shower you accordingly,” but she hardly manages to get the last word out as she is overcome with a fit of coughing. It lasts for almost thirty seconds, shaking her whole body. 

Villanelle darts over to hold Anna, rubbing her back gently until the coughs subside. “You’re getting worse.”

“I’m fine,” Anna croaks, unconvincingly, lowering herself slowly to sit on a cushion. 

“It’s only been three days,” Villanelle says, in disbelief. “Have you kept the stone on you?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Anna takes her teacup from an adjacent table to take a sip. “You are fretting over me like a mother hen.”

“Well?”

Anna reaches a hand into her robe pocket and opens her palm to Villanelle, showing the stone, dull and gray, drained of its power. Villanelle starts at the sight – all of the magic had already been absorbed into Anna, and yet, she’s no better than before? Every other dose of magic kept away her symptoms for weeks, at least. 

“Give it to me,” Villanelle says, holding out her hand.

“You’re not going to–” Anna looks around nervously even though they are alone. “You’re not going to kill someone else, now?”

“You need more,” Villanelle insists.

“I will be alright!” Anna protests, clutching the stone to her heart. “Maybe there’s a bit left in here after all…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Give it to me.”

“I don’t want you to kill anyone else,” Anna protests. “There must be another way. Can’t you do it without killing them?” Anna takes Villanelle’s hand and squeezes it. 

Villanelle can’t help but chuckle at Anna’s innocence. “If I leave them alive, I think they will notice that their magic has been stolen.”

“But you are so smart; you must be able to find a way.” Anna lights up suddenly. “What about a Memory Charm?”

“Memory Charms are reversible,” Villanelle says. “And what do you think is the first thing those Aurors would do if they met a victim with no magic and no memory?” She puts her hands on Anna’s shoulders, looks her in the eye, and gives her a reassuring squeeze. “You always tell me to be careful, and not to get caught. This is the only way.”

Villanelle extends her palm, open, beckoning. Anna hesitates, a pained look on her face, then finally reaches out her hand, but pauses before handing the stone over. “Can I ask one thing of you?” She looks at Villanelle, pleadingly. “Not a child, this time?”

Villanelle resists the temptation to roll her eyes and nods. That much, she can do for Anna. She takes Anna’s hand and pries the stone out of her still-reluctant fingers.

  
The selection of her pervious victims came down to chance – whoever happened to cross Villanelle’s path at the wrong time. Now, given Anna’s special request, she puts a little more thought into the choice. If it must be an adult, which of the professors will be the most suitable target? 

Her desire to indulge wins out over the practicality of choosing the easiest victim, and she’s been craving a more exciting setting. So she goes to bed early, wakes up around three in the morning, suits up with her Invisibility Cloak, and makes her way out of the castle.

On her way out through the front hall, she spots the Slytherin house ghost – the Bloody Baron – floating down the hall. The sight is enough to make her flinch – ghosts can’t see her through her cloak, but she hates their presence nonetheless. Always has. She doesn’t trust a person you can’t touch.

She hurries towards the exit, but the Bloody Baron’s path veers towards her and, unable to see her, he floats right through her. A sickening cold passes over Villanelle, turning her stomach, penetrating her very bones, but then it’s gone, and the Bloody Baron floats away, none the wiser. 

Once she makes it to the greenhouse, she lays her trap, then hides underneath her cloak, behind a Flutterby bush. Her timing is excellent, as she only has to wait a few minutes until Professor Ko enters the greenhouse, as Villanelle predicted – here to re-pot the Fluxweed they’ve been working with in Herbology, which must be done under the moonlight.

Villanelle bites her lip, tries to control her breathing as her anticipation builds. Jin walks through the rows of plants… Closer, closer… Over to the Fluxweed… Yes, right into Villanelle’s trap…

As Jin reaches for her shears, lying on the counter in exactly the position she left them, they spring to life and fly at her face, snapping wildly, searching for her flesh.

Unfortunately, Villanelle is denied the bloodbath she hoped for, because Jin’s reflexes are excellent, and she jumps out of the way, whips out her wand to freeze the shears in midair before they can turn on her and attack again.

Villanelle wrinkles her nose. She feels blue-balled, forced to come up with a plan B. She shifts to withdraw her wand, and silently curses as the leaves of the bush rustle at her movement. Jin wheels around, turning in the general direction of the noise. “So you came to watch.”

Through the leaves, Villanelle sees Jin taking slow steps towards her hiding spot. “I cannot wait to find out who the elusive murderer is. You’ve outwitted everyone impressively. But you picked the wrong victim this time.”

Villanelle's mind races, working out the best way to deal with her first victim who has fought back. She briefly considers using the Killing Curse, but dismisses the thought just as quickly as it came. She has had a distaste for that spell ever since she used it on Kasia; she found it uncreative, unsatisfying, and unsportsmanlike. 

Jin takes another step towards the bush Villanelle is hiding in, but she hasn’t seen Villanelle yet, Villanelle still has the upper hand – then Jin says, “ _Homenum Revelio._ ”

Villanelle knows her Invisibility Cloak won’t help once Jin’s spell reveals there’s a human presence in her spot, so instead of waiting to be discovered, she leaps to her feet and points her wand at Jin, shouting “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Jin blocks the stun easily, then in one fluid motion of her wand, takes control of the possessed shears, and sends them hurtling at Villanelle, snipping wildly.

“ _Depulso!_ ” Villanelle swipes her wand to deflect the shears off-course, but it isn’t enough. Although it saves them from finding purchase on her face or heart, they still make it to her left arm and snap at her, causing a stream of blood to erupt from her tricep. She reels back, re-aims at the shears as they round on her, preparing to make a second attack, and screams, “ _Reducto!_ ” Her second spell hits the mark, and the shears explode into bits which fall harmlessly to the ground.

But Jin takes advantage of the opening while Villanelle is distracted, and calmly aims her next spell. “ _Expelliarmus_ ,” she says, causing Villanelle’s wand to fly through the air and land somewhere several rows of plants away.

In that instant, Villanelle assesses her options. It’s very dark in the greenhouse, and with the hood of her robe drawn up, Jin surely can’t her face. She could flee now and maybe, just maybe, get away with it.

Even if that wasn’t such a risk, it isn’t Villanelle’s style to run away. So instead of dropping back, defeated, she charges. The insanity of her head-on, wandless stampede catches the professor off guard, giving Villanelle exactly the opening she needs to tackle Jin to the ground and physically pins her wand hand down.

Knees on top of Jin’s chest, she wrenches the wand out of Jin’s hand, takes one end firmly between her teeth, and uses her free hand to snap it in half. “How do you like my disarming technique?” she laughs, spitting out a few splinters of wood. “A bit unorthodox, I know.”

“Monster,” Jin spits, still remarkably calm for someone who is about to die. Villanelle finds her serenity annoying. “I will make sure you end up in Azkaban.”

“Mmm, no. You won’t,” Villanelle says. Now that Jin is disarmed, she could summon her wand, but why bother? She wraps her hands around Jin’s throat and chokes her. 

It takes a long time. Villanelle is patient. Even as blood streams from the wound on her arm, weakening her muscles, she does not let up until she is totally sure that Jin has breathed her last, and the body goes limp, seems to shrink beneath her.

Villanelle sighs with relief and exhilaration. She does not get scared, but that was a closer call than she’s felt in a long time. The elation of pulling off the kill is so intense that she almost forgets to take Jin’s magic before she goes.

She fumbles with the buttons on Jin’s shirt, struggling a little bit as her bloody fingers slip and fail to find purchase. Once the shirt is open, she withdraws the small gray stone from her pocket and places it against the corpse’s skin, right over her heart. It must be done promptly, before the body starts to decompose, to lose its magic. 

“ _Furor,_ ” she murmurs, and the stone hums to life, sucking all of Jin’s magic through its point of contact with her skin. A small red glow builds at the center of the stone, growing until the stone is blood-red, glowing, and warm to the touch. It leaves a small, roughly rectangular burn mark where it touched Jin’s skin, which Villanelle hides a quick Concealment Charm, as she always does. (Yes, the charm is easy to reverse, but in order to do that, one would have to know there was something hidden in that very spot in the first place, and who would guess that?) She buttons up the shirt again, and there’s no trace left to signify that anything was done to Jin at all – except, of course, the murder part.

One last thing to do before getting out of here and cleaning herself up: she’ll leave a little message for Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are only gonna speed up from here, I promise ;)
> 
> Let me know whatcha think!
> 
> And catch more of my dumb thoughts on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable) 😎


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of a new murder, Eve and Hugo discover many new clues and fight over what direction to take the investigation. Villanelle feels mounting pressure to protect Anna and keep Eve on the hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really hard to write, for some reason. I hope it came out alright.

Shameful as it is, Eve is thrilled when she gets the news of another murder, because it means more clues. And she’s hardly disappointed, because the scene in the greenhouse is as rife with clues as it is puzzling.

Jin’s body lies rather serenely on the ground in the aisle between a shelf of Fluxweed and the row of Dittany plants that she had been tending to the first time Eve met her. One of the pots of Dittany is overturned, plant gone, dirt spilled all over the counter. They discover a wand, broken in two, lying on the ground a few meters away, and another broken object far in the other direction: the splintered remains of a pair of shears.

Jin’s body also offers an abundance of information: her neck crawls with purple bruise marks, suggesting strangulation, which seems odd to Eve. All of the other murder methods, at least the known ones, had an element of cleverness, an elegance to them. Something in the bluntness of this kill seems fishy to her.

But the cause of death is not what strikes her most about Jin’s body. The Herbology Professor’s face is a mask of serenity – not unlike how she looked when she was alive – with her hair fanned out in a sleek black sheet underneath her.

“Hugo, you had Professor Ko as a teacher for seven years,” Eve says, crouching over the corpse to get a closer look. “How often did she wear her hair down?”

“Never.”

Eve feels the hair on the back of her neck begin to stand up as a chill passes through her. _Wear it down._ Ever since the Polyjuice Potion incident, Eve has found herself looking over her shoulder, expecting to catch Villanelle watching her, or expecting to her her giggle echoing in a quiet room. She can’t even look at Hugo the same anymore, though she sincerely doubts that Villanelle would use the same ploy twice. If she’s unwilling to repeat a means of murder, she’d likely not be so uncreative in spying on Eve. Still, Eve has no doubt that Villanelle could have other methods of getting close to her, and her heart skips a beat each time she thinks of it.

Eve can’t stop herself from gently stroking through Jin’s silky straight hair. “It’s a message from Villanelle.”

Hugo cocks his head. “What kind of message?”

“She’s saying, ‘I know you know it’s me. But you’ll never prove it.’ She’s taunting me.”

“Us, you mean?”

“Right, whatever.”

“Am I interrupting?”

Eve whirls around to the direction of the greenhouse entrance, where the new voice came from, and recognizes their visitor as Professor Pargrave, of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Professor!” Hugo waves him over excitedly, then in an aside to Eve, says, “I sent an owl to Professor Pargrave this morning. Figured he could help us puzzle this one out with his knowledge of dark magic.”

“Pleasure to meet you again, Eve,” he says, shaking Eve’s hand. “Call me Bill, please. That goes for you too, Hawtrey.” He looks to Hugo, who Eve notes practically has stars in his eyes. “Get me up to speed?”

Eve jumps in, since Hugo seems rather distracted by Professor Pargrave’s appearance. “It seems like there was some kind of struggle. Strangulation is more brutal than the past methods of death.”

“Maybe the broken wand is the killer’s?” Hugo suggests, a thought that didn’t even occur to Eve, since she’s already picturing Villanelle here in the greenhouse, strangling Jin, and she knows what Villanelle’s wand looks like. “Did Jin break it, and that’s why the killer had to finish the job by hand?”

Bill stoops to examine the pieces of broken wand on the ground. “No, I recognize it, that’s Professor Ko’s wand.”

“We’ve got to think. This is important,” Eve says. “Jin is the first person who has shown any sign of putting up a fight against the killer.”

“If only she were still here, to tell us how it went,” Hugo murmurs.

“If only any of them were still here,” Bill says, stooping down. “But we can examine what they leave behind.” He pulls out his own wand, pointing it at the broken shears. “ _Reparo._ ”

The shears reassemble themselves, and promptly fly about of their own accord, snipping aggressively at Bill. He laughs, dodging out of the way, and takes aim once again, “ _Impedimenta._ ” The shears promptly slow to a standstill in midair. 

Bill looks up at Eve and Hugo. “I’m no Auror, but it seems to me that the killer cursed these shears for a bit of fun, but Jin fended them off about as easily as I did just now. Then, they had to resort to other means.”

Eve frowns. “Well, that doesn’t tell us very much.”

Bill clears his throat. “I feel obliged to mention this, since I know you interrogated Aaron Peel the other day. For their mid-term papers that were due last week, they had a choice of topic, and he wrote a very lengthy and detailed research paper on possessed objects. Specifically, cursed weaponry.”

“Thank you, Prof– I mean, Bill,” Hugo says, the excitement obvious in his eyes. “Do you know what this means–”

“Hold on,” Eve silences him. The weight of this revelation hasn’t hit her, as she is back at Jin’s body, taking a closer look. She’s only now noticed that there are several drops of blood on the buttons of Jin’s shirt, though there are no apparent flesh wounds on her body. Did the blood come from the killer? 

Hugo and Bill come closer to observe, as Eve begins undoing the buttons. She can’t articulate what is the feeling compelling her in this moment, but it’s a strange pull from deep inside her gut. She pulls out her wand, and as if under a control that’s not her own, points it at Jin’s shirt. “ _Revelio_.”

“What–?” Hugo asks, stunned as the charm actually produces a result. A small, darkish pink mark on Jin’s flesh, not unlike a burn, over her heart. Roughly rectangular, and between three and four inches in each direction.

“What on Earth is that?” Hugo manages.

“More importantly, why did the killer hide it?” Bill adds.

Eve answers their questions with one of her own: “Do you reckon the other victims might have hidden clues on them, too?”

  
The new discovery necessitates a brief and efficient trip to the Ministry to check on the morgue. They travel separately, since Hugo prefers to use Floo Powder for the trip from Scotland to London, and thinks Eve is crazy for Apparating that distance. Eve doesn’t have the same distaste that most wizards do for Apparition, and in fact finds the sensation rather thrilling, preferring it to any other method of magical transit. Besides, she learned to Apparate in the United States, where everything is much more spread out, and a couple hundred miles doesn’t seem so long to her. 

They meet up in the morgue and, working busily in the icy chamber, cast a Revealing Charm on each of the past four victim’s corpses. Each produces the same result: a small, rectangular burn mark, same size, same location.

Eve feels like she’s going to explode out of her skin, so tantalizingly close to a solution. With no pattern in age, gender, connections, or method of killing, these marks are the only common factor between the victims, and it definitely holds the key to the killer’s motive. However, Eve has no idea what they mean. Which leads her back to her number one suspect.

“I’ll meet you back at Hogwarts,” she tells Hugo. “This is an incredible lead, but we still have to follow up on yesterday. We’ve got to ask Professor Leonova about Villanelle.”

“Whoa,” Hugo says. “We’re just glossing over what Professor– I mean, what Bill told us? Shouldn’t Aaron be our main focus again?”

“Keep your pants on. We can talk more about your dreamy Professor Pargrave later. I’ll even help you find another excuse to visit him.”

“I’m not – he’s not–” Hugo goes scarlet and shuts his mouth. “I’ll meet you back at campus.”

  
They reunite outside the Divination classroom, and even though Anna Leonova was hardly an intimidating figure during their first meeting, Eve’s glad she has Hugo to back her up for this discussion, which she expects to be considerably more uncomfortable.

While Anna fusses about, brewing a pot of tea for her guests, Hugo takes the lead. “What can you tell us about Villanelle Astankova?”

“She’s intelligent,” Anna begins. “Funny. Rude.” Anna laughs. “Why do you ask?”

“We were thinking more in the vein of, what can you tell us about your relationship with her?”

Anna turns and gives Hugo a confused look. “I don’t know what you mean by relationship. I’ve had her in my classes.”

“You have no other connection beyond that?” Eve prods.

Anna purses her lips. “We talked sometimes, outside of class; both being from Russia, we have that much in common. Though she picked up English remarkably fast, it still is nice to have someone to converse with from the same culture, yes?”

“But you never shared that same connection with Nadia Kadomsteva, or any of the other students the Headmaster brought over?”

Anna puts her tea kettle down, and turns to Eve and Hugo, sweetly. “Perhaps if you tell me exactly what you’re investigating, I can help you more directly.”

Eve glances at Hugo, then says, “To be perfectly honest, Professor Leonova, Villanelle is currently one of our top suspects.”

“You think she could have done it?” Anna shakes her head. “That can’t be right. She’s in _Gryffindor_ , for Merlin’s sake.”

“Sorting isn’t everything,” Hugo says.

Anna is still shaking her head, as if the very notion is ridiculous. “The best I can tell you is, I don’t think it’d be her, but what do I know?”

“Don’t you see in the great beyond and all that?” Hugo asks.

“Divination is not so simple as asking a yes or no question and getting an answer.”

Eve leans forward. “With all due respect, Professor–”

“Call me Anna.”

“I think you aren’t telling us everything.”

“Excuse me?” Rather than offended at Eve’s suspicion, Anna looks infuriatingly confounded.

“You aren’t the first person we’ve talked to about Villanelle, and–”

“Careful, Eve,” Hugo cautions, before she can give away too much about their sources.

“Let’s just say, now is your chance to tell us the truth, before we find that your story doesn’t match up with what we’ve learned from others.”

Anna glances down at the table nervously. “You are correct, Eve. I do have one secret.”

“Well?” Eve demands, a bit too excited. “Go on!”

“I…” Anna stands up, as if to make a grand confession. “I–” 

Anna never finishes, because she abruptly faints into a heap.

* * *

  
In the bathroom, Villanelle crouches to glance underneath the stall doors to make sure no one else is inside, then goes to the mirror over the sink. She removes her robe and unbuttons her shirt to slip it off of her left shoulder. A long, thin red scar arcs across her arm from her shoulder to the outside of her elbow, where the shears got her. She traces it idly with her finger, then reaches into her robe pocket to pull out a vial and apply another layer of mashed Dittany paste. 

In her haste, she didn’t have time to properly distill the fresh healing herb down to its essence, hence the reduced efficacy. She smears a layer of the paste over the scar, then rebuttons her shirt, hoping the second application will make the wound disappear completely.

For what a shame it would be if anyone saw the scar, and asked how she got it. What a terrible thing it would be if Eve Polastri caught a glimpse of it and it strengthened all her suspicions…

Villanelle can’t help but sigh as she imagines Eve Polastri’s reaction to finding Villanelle’s latest handiwork. She will understand the message. She will come right after Villanelle. But she will find no proof. She will go mad.

Villanelle exits the bathroom and begins heading towards the Great Hall for dinner. She may actually sit down and take her time today, not because she relishes the opportunity to socialize with her peers, but because things are going well, at least relatively. She delivered the recharged stone to Anna that morning, which immediately perked her up, and now she has Eve Polastri right where she wants her. No need to rush off and take care of business today; she can take her time and savor each bite of blood pudding and treacle tart.

With her taste buds are singing and her stomach is pleasantly full, she gets up to leave the Great Hall, but is stopped by a voice calling out to her.

“Are you hurt?”

Villanelle freezes in her tracks. No one was in the bathroom with her, unless they also had an Invisibility Cloak. And no one had been in the greenhouse… had someone spotted her when she fled? No, she was invisible then… While she mentally retraces her steps, searching for any moment when she may have let her guard down, may have been seen, she turns around to see who spoke to her. “Excuse me?”

The speaker turns out to be Sebastian, a fellow seventh year, and the Head Boy of Hufflepuff. He smiles sheepishly. “I noticed you rubbing your arm earlier, during Transfiguration, and again all during dinner. I wondered if it was hurt, and if I could do anything to help. I’m studying to become a Healer after graduation.”

What a relief. This moron is perfectly harmless. And to think for a second, Villanelle was actually worried that she may have left a trail to be discovered by someone other than Eve. “You watch me all day?”

“Not in a creepy way!” Sebastian stammers, turning pink. “I just… well, sometimes I get this sense about other people. Like I can tell what they are feeling. And I knew that you were hurting.”

Villanelle says. “I feel amazing. I think maybe your ‘feeling’ comes from eating too many Fizzing Whizbees.”

“I guess it’s nothing then,” he laughs. “Maybe… Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

Villanelle forces a smile back at him. “Do you need an excuse? Am I that scary?”

“More intimidatingly pretty,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling in the light.

“Does that line work on other girls?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not interested in other girls.”

Villanelle gives a stilted laugh. Boys are so, so pathetically bad at flirting. But she is in a good mood, so she will entertain Sebastian for a few minutes.

They walk out of the Great Hall, towards the Owlery, and Sebastian supplies most of the conversation. “So how about what happened to Professor Ko? Scary, huh?”

“Shame we won’t get Herbology anymore,” Villanelle says. “I was _so_ excited for another day of fertilizing Fluxweed.” 

Sebastian laughs, then turns serious. “This killer isn’t slowing down at all. I have to admit, it makes me a little nervous. I’ve been sleeping with one eye open.”

Villanelle rolls her eyes. “I think you’re safe.”

“I’m not worried for me. I’m worried for everyone. All my friends.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I wish there was something I could do to save them.”

“You could find the murderer,” Villanelle says, “And kill them.”

“What?”

“If you want to save everyone.”

Sebastian chuckles nervously. “Well, I don’t know if I could do that before the Aurors do.”

“But say you did,” Villanelle says, stopping in her tracks and turning to face Sebastian.

“I’d probably turn them in…”

“What if they got away?” Villanelle presses. “What if, the only way to guarantee your loved ones would be safe, was to kill this person. Would you do it?”

“I don’t know…” Sebastian runs a hand through his sandy hair, stalling. “It wouldn’t be easy. But if the person keeps hurting people at this fast rate… I mean, two professors in one day, soon we won’t have any left–”

“Two professors?” Villanelle interrupts him.

“You didn’t hear?” Sebastian says. “Well, she isn’t dead but – Professor Leonova is in the hospital wing now.”

Sebastian keeps talking, but Villanelle doesn’t register a single word. She babbles some excuse to him about Charms homework and then runs straight to the hospital wing, not bothering with her Invisibility Cloak or even with discretion.

As soon as she spots Anna lying there, she runs to her bedside and clutches her hand. “You’re alive!” she exclaims.

“So I am,” Anna breathes, squeezing Villanelle’s hand weakly.

Glancing around, Villanelle takes stock of the room for the first time. No one is immediately in earshot, but she switches to speaking Russian just in case. “Tell me what happened,” she commands.

“I was feeling much better all day, but then Eve came back, with that other man, to interview me – about you,” Anna says. “And I was getting rather worked up, telling her there was nothing to investigate, and the next thing I knew, I woke up here.” She smiles faintly. “The bright side is, it made the Aurors leave me alone.”

Villanelle is aghast. “You took the stone! Fresh magic this morning! How is this possible?”

Anna glances around to confirm that one one can see, then unfurls her hand to show Villanelle the stone, which is once again gray and dull, just as it looked less than eighteen hours ago, before Villanelle puts Jin’s magic into it.

Villanelle snatches the stone up. “I will get you more.”

“Darling…” Anna begins, speaking slowly, as if each word takes great effort. “Maybe it is my time. Like you said once… Everyone dies.”

“No.” Villanelle shakes her head once, forcefully.

“We only have so much time, even if we try to steal a little more.” Anna looks up at Villanelle, wetness building in her eyes. “We always knew this would end, darling. One way or another.”

“No! You’re _mine!_ ” As Villanelle’s words echo throughout the chamber, the windowpanes rattle in their frames. Only Villanelle’s instinct to shield Anna from any harm keeps her from shattering each and every one of them.  
  
“You are so determined,” Anna says, with a wistful tone. “I wish I could stop you.”

“Well, you can’t,” Villanelle says. “I’m bringing you more magic whether you like it or not.”

It burns every cell in Villanelle’s body to leave Anna’s side, but action must be taken. Back to her dormitory to grab her cloak. No waiting around until nightfall; if Anna already burned through all of Jin’s magic in less than a day, then Villanelle can’t afford to waste any time in getting her next dose.

 _Sebastian,_ she decides. _He’ll do._ It should be easy enough to call him back; she’ll say she needs help with her Charms homework. Say she wants him to demonstrate for her in an empty classroom. Finish him off nice and quick, then get Anna her needed dose before morning.

As she’s leaving the hospital wing, she hears a familiar voice coming from the end of the corridor. Eve Polastri. She freezes, and hears her arguing with Hugo indistinctly. They must be just around the corner. Villanelle creeps along the wall, moving a few meters closer until she can hear what they are saying.

“Why would we back down now?” Eve asks. “We’re on the brink of something huge.”

“Whether that’s true or not, it’s not a good look for us to interrogate a woman at death’s door. At least give her a night to recover before we try again,” Hugo replies, his voice much calmer.

“Isn’t it awfully convenient that she fainted right as we were pressing her about her relationship with Villanelle?”

“Not everything’s a conspiracy, Eve. Sometimes people are just sick.”

“So she’s sick,” Eve says, raising her voice. “She’s sick, with a mysterious disease the best Healers can’t identify. Which she just happens to be keeping secret, because she doesn’t want anyone to worry. Alright. Sure. And she has some kind of poignant relationship with Villanelle, which she dodges questions about. Perfectly normal. We’ve just discovered that the bodies all have the same weird mark on to them. It reeks of motive.”

Villanelle feels her heartbeat speeding up. She knew that Eve was following her trail (after all, she’d laid the trail for Eve to follow), but not this much. She hadn’t expected Eve to discover the markings left by the stone, at least not so soon. At least Eve still has no idea what caused them. Without that knowledge, she’ll never be able to put together the pieces.

“You’re doing it again,” Hugo says. “You’re drawing the final picture then pretending you connected the dots. I think we can’t count out Aaron Peel.”

“This again?” Eve scoffs. Villanelle can’t help but silently agree.

“Means,” Hugo spits. “We have confirmation from Professor Pargrave that Aaron has the means for this kill.”

“You’re just happy that your teacher crush agrees with you. The shears thing could be a coincidence.”

“Bloody big coincidence,” Hugo mutters.

“Then maybe Villanelle could be framing him–”

“So before she’s taunting you, now she’s framing him?” Hugo fires back. “Do you hear what you’re saying? It makes no sense.”

There are a few seconds of silence, before Villanelle hears Eve’s voice again. “Remember, I am the lead officer here.”

“Yes, but you’re not the only officer! Honestly, why am I even here if you’re never going to listen to what I have to say?”

“I listen to you–”

“Only when I agree with you. Look, the know-it-all thing was cute at first, but now it's getting annoying. No, annoying I could deal with. It’s getting _dangerous_.”

“Do I have to remind you how long I’ve been doing this. How many more cases I’ve worked than you–”

“Yeah, and you’ve bungled so many you’re on the brink of being fired.”

Another short silence, before Eve growls, “Take the night, Hugo. Take tomorrow, too. Go enjoy yourself or something. I’ll follow up alone.”

“I’m sorry. I went too far. This whole case has me on edge–”

“Maybe you’re right,” Eve says. “I’m on edge too. Let’s both take the night. We can take another look at Peel in the morning.”

Villanelle hears footsteps, and flees the other way down the corridor until she finds an empty chamber to duck into. While she waits for the coast to clear, she considers what she just heard.

She sits at a desk in the empty classroom and pounds her head down on its wooden surface. She feels utterly impotent. Despite all her efforts, Anna is dying. Eve is giving up on her. Was it really only this morning that Villanelle was unstoppable, standing over Jin’s body, victorious from her toughest fight yet? Now, she’s collapsed on a desk, holding back tears.

 _No. Pull it together_ , she commands herself. She isn’t a sniveling damsel who lets life shit on her and takes it happily. She is master and commander of her own destiny. She is what strikes fear into all of Hogwarts. She is her own creator and creation.

And like that, it comes to her. A deviation from her original plan, but one that will work even better.

She sleeps dreamlessly that night, and wakes herself at half past four. She dons her Cloak and sneaks down to the castle entrance. No one else is around in the soft dawn light, and the grounds are serene and silent except for the occasional titter of birds.

She waits on the front steps of the castle until she hears footsteps approaching. Five o’clock. He keeps a tight schedule, as he constantly boasts.

As soon as she sees Aaron Peel emerge from the castle entrance, her wand is already aimed. “ _Sectumsempra!_ ”

Blood explodes from Aaron’s chest as a huge slash wound appears, tearing into his body like a red X. Villanelle feels a rush of adrenaline at the result of the spell that she'd read about and been dying to try for ages. It did not disappoint. She approaches him, still invisible, but leaving tracks through his pooling blood.

“Who…” Aaron gurgles, sensing her presence. Villanelle crouches over him, pulls out the stone, and puts it to his chest. She lowers her cloak and looks into his eyes as she murmurs the incantation to begin sucking out his magic.

“Gryffindor… trash…” Aaron coughs with weak recognition, his face going chalk-white. He has little time left; he’ll be gone by the time his magic is drained.

As she watches the light fade from his cruel, dark eyes, she grins. “My name is Villanelle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more chapters, fam. Each one will be crazier than the last.
> 
> Let me know what ya think in the comments!
> 
> Or come say hi on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable) xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their other prime other suspect dead, Eve and Hugo try to corner Villanelle into a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting excited at how close I am to the end, so I'm back to twice a week. Guys, the climax is gonna be great. You have no idea.

“I was wrong. You were right.”

Ordinarily, Eve would reply with a triumphant, delicious, “I told you so!”, but she’s unable to relish her victory as much as she’d like to as she and Hugo confront the bloody scene at the castle’s front entrance. Konstantin once again erected a magical barrier to keep students back, and this time, made it opaque from the outside, which was a wise decision because the scene is rather grisly. Aaron’s body lies splayed on the ground with large, horrible gashes marring his torso, and a puddle of blood all around him, such volume that it hasn’t completely dried. 

In between the crisscrossing wounds that ripped open his clothing and skin, Eve catches a familiar sight on Aaron’s chest. There’s a rectangular reddish mark on his skin, a few inches wide, just like they’d discovered only yesterday on the other victims. “Look.” She nudges Hugo. “She didn’t bother hiding it this time.”

“She knows we found the rest,” Hugo says.

“Such a bloody scene. Not bothering to cover her tracks. Plus two murders in two days,” Eve says. “We’re approaching the endgame.”

“What do you reckon that is?”

“I don’t know,” Eve says. “But I don’t want to find out. No more fucking around with interviews; it’s time to fast track this. Provided that you agree?”

Hugo takes a last look at the mangled body of his previous top suspect. “I agree.”

  
Instead of sending Phoebe with a message, Eve Apparates down to the Ministry to personally put in her request, which gets marked as top priority and approved within twenty minutes. By lunchtime, she’s back to campus, setting up with Hugo in Konstantin’s office for the procedure to come.

“I don’t like this,” Konstantin says.

“You don’t have to,” Eve retorts. “I have Carolyn’s signature right here. It’s fully approved.”

“Besides, Headmaster,” Hugo says. “If Villanelle is innocent, then this is actually best-case scenario for her. It’ll clear her of all suspicion.”  
  
Konstantin glowers at them. “You will keep all of your questions related to the case?”

“Of course.”

“And once she is done, you finally drop this ridiculous theory?”

Eve presses her lips together. “Let’s just see how the interview goes.”

Konstantin sends for Villanelle, and a few minutes later, she’s seated in a chair in the center of the office, surrounded by Eve, Konstantin, and Hugo, who is in the midst of setting up an enchanted Steady-Steno Quill with a piece of parchment to record the transcript of the interview.

This is the first time Eve is face to face with Villanelle since they exchanged wands. At least with her real face – assuming it was her who masqueraded as Hugo under the effects of Polyjuice Potion, then that was technically the last time Eve spoke with her. But no, Eve reminds herself, that definitely was Villanelle, and she’s about to finally prove it.

Over the past couple days, as she’s been consumed with thoughts of Villanelle committing these murders, Villanelle and her mysterious relationship with Anna Leonova, and Villanelle spying on Eve, Eve has come to the conclusion that her own connection with Villanelle is no coincidence. Wand twins! What a laugh, a coincidence, a story to tell over dinner. She’d hardly thought much of it at first, chalking it up to Ollivander’s nonsense – why should it be any more significant than Eve’s relation to anyone else with a sycamore and dragon heartstring wand? 

But sometime over the past forty-eight hours, Eve has thoroughly convinced herself that their matching wands represent a sort of tied destiny. Of _course_ her wand twin is the killer. A matched set, the hero and the villain. Destined to duel until one of them meets their doom. Villanelle has put up a very good fight, but now, Eve will emerge victorious.

Villanelle doesn’t seem to realize that her downfall is so near, as her face is completely unperturbed, even a little cheerful. “Hello again, Eve. How is the investigation going?”

About a thousand snarky replies fly through Eve’s mind, but she bites her tongue and decides not to engage. Her moment of triumph is so close, she can taste it. 

Eve stares Villanelle right in the face, mirroring her serene look. “Please state your name for the record.”

“Villanelle.”

The Steady-Steno Quill begins scratching away of its own accord, noting down every word.

Hugo glances at Eve. “Time for the potion.”

Eve withdraws the vial of Veritaserum from her chest pocket. She’s been carrying it on her person since she got it from the Ministry so it couldn’t be tampered with, but she’s still afraid that somehow the killer could’ve gotten the better of her. The powerful truth potion is indistinguishable from water, which is nice if you’re trying to slip it into someone’s drink without their knowledge, but also makes it rather easy to swap out and replace. Still, for all of Villanelle’s trickery, Eve doesn’t think she could have messed with the potion that was pressed up against her chest for the past hour.

She offers the vial to Villanelle, who downs the potion in one swig, then happily opens her mouth and waggles her tongue around to show that she swallowed it.

“Wonderful. Now, please tell us your name.”

Hugo furrows his brow. “Didn’t you just ask that…?”

Eve shushes him, then repeats, “What is your name?”

Villanelle breathes heavily through her nose, and although her poker face remains mostly intact, Eve spots a tiny quiver in her upper lip, as she reluctantly pronounces, “Oksana Astankova.”

Eve flashes a grin at Hugo. “It’s working.”

Konstantin, standing grumpily with his arms crossed, urges, “Get on with it, then.”

Eve steels herself, feeling as though she’s about to jump from a cliff with no parachute, nor magic to slow her fall. “Did you kill Kasia Molkovska?”

The half-second that passes before Villanelle’s answer feels like an eternity. 

“No.”

Eve deflates slightly, but isn’t entirely shocked by this answer. She has a slew of other questions prepared to cover all possibilities and loopholes provided by weaseling out different interpretations of her phrasing.

“Did you kill Carla De Mann?”

“No.”

“Did you kill Davide Greco, Gabriel Belanger, Jin Ko, or Aaron Peel?”

“No, no, no and no.”

“Did you directly or indirectly cause, or contribute to, any of the deaths of the aforementioned people?”

“No.”

Eve is nearing the end of her rope. “Do you know anything about who the killer _might_ be?”

“No.”

Now, finally, Eve slows. How is it possible that every single one of those questions registered a pure, unqualified “no”? With all the evidence they’d found? The Steady-Steno Quill scratches away, noting down each of Villanelle’s rapid-fire responses. Villanelle, for her part, remains perfectly placid, and Eve wants to scream. How is it that she can sit there so blankly? Not showing so much as a sly smirk, a trace of triumph at having beaten Eve? 

Konstantin throws up his arms. “There you go. Done.”

Eve panics. “Wait, I have more. Give me a moment…” She frantically tries to think of new ways to phrase her questions that could cover any possible gaps.

Hugo leans close to her and says softly, “All due respect Eve, it’s good to be thorough, but… I think we have our answer.”

Eve leans down, getting her face level with Villanelle's, and looks her straight in the eyes. “Have you ever killed _anyone_?”

At this, Villanelle hesitates. Eve feels adrenaline start to fill her veins as Villanelle’s poker face cracks, and she glances over to Konstantin nervously. Her eyes flick to the ground as she says, “Yes.”

Eve gasps. Hugo slaps his head.

Konstantin steps forward, grabbing Eve’s arm. “This interview is over.”

Eve throws him off, never taking her eyes off of Villanelle’s face. “Who did you kill?”

“My parents.”

“When?”

“When I was twelve.”

“Why?”

“It just happened.”

“What do you mean ‘it just happened’? How did you kill them?”

“They were awful. It made me unhappy,” Villanelle says, staring at a far-off spot on the carpet as she relates the story in a dull tone. “One day, my father was especially drunk, on a rampage, and I was under the bed. My mother was there, only she wouldn’t tell him to stop, she just called him a drunk piece of shit, and he was coming to my room, banging on the door so hard, like it would explode, and then it did. The whole house exploded. They were dead. When the Muggle fire department found me, they took me to the hospital, then to the orphanage.”

A heavy silence settles over the room as Eve and Hugo process Villanelle’s confession. 

Then, Konstantin steps in. “This is over. Villanelle, you are free to go.”

“You don’t need any more?” Villanelle asks, her voice light, innocent, completely unaffected by the horrible story she’d just told.

“No.”

Villanelle shrugs and stands up. Eve could swear, for only an instant, a fraction of a second, her neutral face twists into a grin at Eve, but by the time she can process it, it’s gone. Did she imagine it?

Once Villanelle is out the door, Eve wheels on Konstantin. “Excuse me, but what the fuck was that?”

Konstantin rubs his forehead. “You broke your promise, Ms. Polastri. That question was not pertinent to this investigation.”

“A history of murder is pretty pertinent.”

“It is not ‘murder’,” Konstantin says, sounding exhausted, like he’s explaining it for the thousandth time. “She was a child. She was emotional. She was abused. She didn’t know how to control her magic.”

“What gives you the right to withhold that information?” Eve recalls how Konstantin framed Villanelle’s backstory the first time they’d asked him. “Parents killed by a dark wizard… That’s rich.”

“You think she’d be able to have any kind of normal life if people knew? People are suspicious enough of her already. She doesn’t have many friends–”

“I think that’s pretty fair, if someone’s a killer they won’t have friends,” Eve scoffs.

Hugo shifts uneasily. “I have to agree with Eve on this one, Headmaster. It’s one thing to keep it from the other students, but you should have told us the full story.” Eve is glad to see that this is a big enough deal that it’s even overpowered Hugo’s natural ass-kissing instincts.

“What does it matter in the end?” Konstantin throws up his hands. “Now you know. But you also know she did _not_ kill anyone here at Hogwarts.”

All of the air goes out of Eve as Konstantin’s words hit her. He’s right.

She was _so_ sure. Beyond one hundred percent; every cell in her body knew that Villanelle was the killer. But Veritaserum doesn’t lie.

They’re back to the very beginning. No more debating about Aaron versus Villanelle. They have six corpses and zero suspects. The unknown killer must be laughing at them for being so far off the mark.

Eve wants to cry.

She’s pulled back from her daze as Hugo takes her by the arm, and leads her out of the office. She shrugs him off as they exit into the corridor.

Hugo sets his jaw, determined. “Where do we go from here?”

“I’m done,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“What do you mean, you’re done? We have a murderer to catch–”

“I mean, I’m going home,” Eve says, beginning to walk away. 

Hugo walks after her. “So you were wrong! Big bloody deal. We’re all wrong sometimes. I was wrong about Aaron. You put on your big girl robes and you get over it.”

“I’m tired, Hugo,” Eve says, stopping and turning to face him. “I’m so goddamn tired.”

“If you’re really going to pitch a tantrum and give up over this setback, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Eve snaps. She hears Hugo calling out to her as she storms off, but doesn’t turn back for a moment. She wanders aimlessly, allowing the Hogwarts corridors and staircases to take her wherever they wish. Eve has no will of her own to impose anymore, and no energy left to fight the forces around her. She will be a leaf on the wind and accept whatever fate meets her.

Failure. Eve has tasted it many times before, but it’s never stung quite this much. The feeling greets her like an old friend. _Welcome back,_ it says. _Too bad you’ll have to quit being an Auror, but I’ve heard Polly’s Potion Pots is hiring!_

She finds herself on a balcony overlooking the main entrance hall and leans over the railing. As the bell rings and students flood the halls on their way to the next period, Eve watches them with pity. _I’m so sorry,_ she thinks. _I was sent here to protect you all, and not only has the number of victims doubled since I came, now the murderer has won. Now they’ll have free rein, and any of you could be next._

But if she’s being honest with herself – really, truly honest, in the way she can never admit to another soul? She’s less concerned about what the murderer will do next, and more concerned about how she could have possibly been wrong.

All signs pointed to Villanelle. Every single one. If she isn’t the murderer, then Eve feels like she can’t even trust her own perception of reality anymore.

“Eve?”

“What now?” Eve turns around to see that the person who called her name is not Hugo, but Kenny, standing behind her with his schoolbag slung over his shoulder.

“I was just about to send you an owl,” Kenny says, then pauses. “Are you alright?”

“Dandy,” Eve says, clearing her throat. “What is it, Kenny?”

“Remember how you asked me to keep an eye out for anything else about Villanelle’s background?”

Eve nods slowly.

“Well, I reached out to a friend of mine, a fellow techno-mage out in Russia, asked her if she could poke around, and she managed to acquire and digitize all the records from the wizard school in Moscow. She just sent them to me this morning.”

“And?” Eve asks, already feeling exhausted. “Villanelle never even went to that school, what could you possibly find?”

“I looked through the teachers’ records,” Kenny says, “and I learned something I never knew before. Professor Leonova worked with Konstantin there about fifteen years ago, yeah? That’s how he knew her, how she and her husband ended up here. Only she didn’t teach Divination back in Moscow.”

Eve’s breath catches. “What did she teach?”

“Occlumency.”

“Occlumency,” Eve repeats.

“Probably switched because it’s not a subject offered here,” Kenny says. “But I thought it might be of interest, especially because… well, because the Headmaster seems to have made an effort to keep that out of the Hogwarts records.”

“Occlumency. The art of shielding the mind from penetration,” Eve murmurs. “One of the few known ways of resisting the effects of Veritaserum.”

“I have a feeling I’ve missed something,” Kenny says quietly.

“You are a superstar,” Eve says, throwing her arms around Kenny, then noticing his very uncomfortable look and releasing him. 

“Can I help with anything else?”

“I need to find Hugo,” Eve says. “I’m gonna say a _big_ ‘I told you so’ this time.”

* * *

Villanelle leaves the interview slightly shaken. Not because of the truth potion, which faced with her defenses, was less like a binding force towards honesty and more like a gentle suggestion, but because of the proximity to Eve Polastri.

Although she got hardly any real answers from Villanelle, still, her gaze seemed to cut through to Villanelle’s very core. Even with the Veritaserum, she seemed to know the truth. Like she could see right into Villanelle’s soul. 

_That’s ridiculous,_ Villanelle chides herself. _Ridiculous and sappy._ Why should she be bothered at all? Isn’t this exactly what she wanted? To lead Eve right to the solution, then confound her, and escape without punishment? Villanelle hardly could’ve planned this afternoon’s events better herself. So why does she retain a sense of unease, of unfinished business?

Because, she begrudgingly admits, the fact is, that Eve looked right to the core of her like no one else had, even more so than when Anna used Legilimency to pry into her mind during her training sessions.

As if in a trance, she goes to meet Anna in the Room of Requirement. Once she’d received the stone, charged with Aaron’s magic, at the crack of dawn, she’d recovered enough to leave the hospital wing, but she still doesn’t appear to be in top shape. Villanelle wonders if she should keep the events of the day to herself, but of course, Anna can see right through her.

“Darling,” Anna says. “I heard they were interrogating you. It was all I could think of all day.”

“It was fine.”

“Tell me,” Anna says, softly. 

“They used Veritaserum.”

“Oh.”

“But it was easy to resist, just like you taught me. Nothing compared to practicing against a master like you.”

“You are so magnificent,” Anna says, eyes gleaming with a light Villanelle hasn’t seen in her for a long time. Not since before the sickness. “I am so proud.”

Villanelle shifts. “But I had to tell the truth about a few things since Konstantin was there. I had to tell them about my parents.” She pauses, taking stock of Anna’s sympathetic reaction. Anna, of course, knows the true story; she is the only one at Hogwarts besides Konstantin and Nadia that knows the truth.

“I’m so sorry.”

Villanelle shrugs. “It made them think the potion worked, so, it’s for the best.”

“I’m sorry, anyway, that you had to talk about that.”

“It’s in the past.” Villanelle says.

“They can’t hurt you now,” Anna reassures her, reaching out to gently stroke Villanelle’s hair. Somehow she always knows exactly how to soothe Villanelle. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Villanelle asks.

“Of course.”

“What did you think of me?”

Anna laughs quietly, since this is hardly the first time Villanelle has asked her to relate her first impression of Villanelle, but she obliges anyway. “I did not know what to make of it when Konstantin called me all the way from Russia to help one single student. ‘She needs someone to teach her to keep her emotions in check. She has power, _Bozhe_ , she has power to spare! But she needs someone to impart discipline and control. Someone like you, Professor Leonova.’” Anna smiles. “How could I say no? And once I arrived here, and he introduced us… Suggested we begin Occlumency lessons in private… And I finally met the wily, unruly, passionate girl I was to be working with. I had no idea what I was getting into.”

“What a beginning,” Villanelle says. “And may our story never come to an end.”

“Villanelle,” Anna says, softly, but authoritatively.

“No,” Villanelle places a finger over Anna’s lips. “Whatever it is, don’t. I’ve heard your lectures. I’ve heard the doom and gloom talk. I’m not an idiot,” she says, swallowing hard. “But please. Can you leave it for today? Don’t make me fight you, today?”

Anna’s eyes flick down, and she reaches into her pocket to withdraw the stone, once again dull gray and empty, and hands it to Villanelle. “No fights today.”

Villanelle regards this offer with suspicion. “Yesterday I practically had to pry that out of your hands, and still you fought me.”

“I am afraid,” Anna whispers, smiling though her eyes begin to fill with tears. “I tried to be strong, but I am only human. I do not want to die.” She reaches out to cup Villanelle’s cheek, then presses her lips softly to Villanelle’s. “I do not want our story to end.”

Villanelle accepts the stone, and embraces Anna, holding her close. She doesn’t let go, and when Anna’s body begins to rock with coughs, only clutches her tighter.

Eventually, Anna pulls away. “I must go. It’s late; Maxi will be worried.”

Villanelle feels the urge to stop her, to claim more time – after all, if Anna is right, as much as Villanelle hates to admit that possibility – if Anna is right, that she only has so much time left, shouldn’t it be spent with Villanelle? What has Max ever done for Anna, anyway? Villanelle is the one who has been watching over Anna, caring for her, keeping the sickness from overtaking her.

But she knows that voicing any of those thoughts will only cause a fight, and a fight will put undue stress on Anna’s body, so she stays silent, and obligingly exits the Room of Requirement. 

However, she can’t resist the temptation for one more glimpse of Anna, alive and well, so before she goes to bed, she throws on her cloak and waits invisibly. After the requisite ten minutes have passed, Anna emerges into the corridor and begins walking in the direction of the professors’ quarters.

Villanelle follows, invisibly, silently, the whole way. She is Anna’s guardian angel, in a sense: she will always be there in case any new danger presents itself. While she follows, she considers whom she will take magic from tomorrow. Now that the Aurors have officially cleared her from suspicion, she has a considerable amount of freedom. She is spoiled for choice.

Once Anna reaches the portrait of a Hippogriff that serves as the entrance to the professor’s wing, Villanelle watches her go and starts back for her own dormitory, her mind wonderfully clear in the perfect silence.

Then an odd observation strikes her: the entire journey was remarkably silent. Not so much as a single cough from Anna over the entire six or seven minutes span.

She shakes the thought from her head. Coincidence. That’s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said that Villanelle was gonna be soft in this one, didn't I?
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Or some say hi on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable), where I post dumb thoughts and deleted lines and sometimes play piano


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Hugo search for irrefutable proof in order to convinct Villanelle. Meanwhile, Villanelle conducts an investigation of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say that I read and appreciated each and every comment on the last chapter, and the only reason I didn't reply is because I don't trust myself not to give anything away! But I wanted to take this moment to thank you all. I appreciate every single one of your reactions, thoughts, and theories. <3

“Oksana Astankova, alias ‘Villanelle’,” Eve begins, pausing to make sure the Steady-Steno Quill is taking her dictation. “Twenty-one years old, seventh year, Gryffindor. Self-made orphan at age twelve. Found and adopted by Headmaster Konstantin Vasiliev, brought to begin her education at Hogwarts at age fourteen. History of violence including the aforementioned – allegedly accidental – killing of her parents, plus several mild to severe injuries to other Hogwarts students in her first two years. In her third year, Konstantin brings over Anna Leonova to secretly coach her in Occlumency and teach her control over her magical outbursts.”

Eve pauses, and nods encouragingly to Hugo to continue summarizing their gathered evidence.

Hugo clears his throat, and adds, “She’s a girl, so she could’ve easily been in the bathroom where Kasia was killed. Given her special relationship with Professor Leonova, she would’ve had access to the Tentacula for its venom used in the potion that killed Gabriel. As for the other kills, interviews with various professors revealed that even though she isn’t top of the class for grades, it’s due to a lack of consistency in turning in assignments; all of them agreed that she’s one of the top students in every subject in terms of raw ability.”

The quill struggles to keep up as Eve adds, “The knowledge of the Polyjuiced Hugo impostor that my wand was acting up suggests that was Villanelle, plus the further connection between that impostor and Jin’s murder via the ‘wear it down’ clue.” Eve hesitates, and adds, “Although she denied any involvement in the murders while under the influence of Veritaserum, the discovery of her Occlumency training under the mastery of Professor Leonova strongly suggests that she was able to resist the potion, thus clearing her name, and essentially committing the perfect crime.”

The quill finishes copying Eve’s words then proudly sets itself down on the scroll of parchment, which Hugo picks up appraisingly. “A veritable mountain of evidence,” Hugo says. “Enough to convince anyone she could be the killer.”

“But not enough to convict beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Eve says. “We know exactly what we’re looking for, now we have to keep going ’til we find it.”

“This is gonna be a long day, isn’t it,” Hugo groans.

“Probably,” Eve says cheerily. “The key has got to be in those marks on each of the bodies. They’re the only thing all the murders have in common, and there must be a good reason why Villanelle hid them at first. If we can figure out what made those marks, we’ll get her in Azkaban.”

And so, the spend most of the day in the Hogwarts library, furiously researching. Elena helps them, and Kenny joins midway through the day since his afternoon class would’ve been Herbology, which is indefinitely cancelled owing to the death of Professor Ko. Even with all four of them poring through magical tomes, with Elena using her intimate relationship with the library to coax the bookshelves to provide the most relevant books, and Kenny searching all the information accrued in is magical iMac, they come up with nothing. 

“It’s too vague,” Hugo complains. “It’s one thing to look up a curse or potion or plant and then find its symptoms. But how do you reverse it from such a minor result? Smallish bruise or burn like mark that seems significant only based on larger context. We’ll never get anywhere with this.”

“Why do you think she never tried to kill us?” Eve asks.

“What?”

Eve shoves aside the book in front of her, _A Thousand Curses for Your Worst Enemies_ , which she’d hardly been focusing on for the past several minutes anyway. “We’ve been here for almost a week now, and she’s known the whole time who we were. She’s even gotten close to us. Close to you while you were sleeping.”

Hugo ponders for a moment, then says, “If she kills us, more Aurors get sent in our place. It wouldn’t really help her, would it? Unless we were getting close.”

“Exactly,” Eve says. “This whole time, she’s been watching us, messing with us. Letting us think we’re on the trail. But we’re still missing something huge. These marks are a part of it, that’s for sure. She wouldn’t have bothered trying to hide them if they weren’t. But she must think there’s still no way we’re gonna put it together, or we wouldn’t be breathing right now.”

“Eve,” Hugo laughs nervously. “I understand what you mean, and I agree, but what do we do with that? You’re making it sound like we ought to quit, or else die.”

“If I put myself in her shoes,” Eve says, closing her eyes and literally picturing herself in Villanelle’s place – Hogwarts robes, blonde hair, same wand of course, “then I’m feeling pretty good right now. That Veritaserum interview is probably exactly what she wanted from the start. She let us play ourselves.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“We fucking figure it out. Because that’s our job.” Eve slams the book shut and stands up to go find another. “And if she tries to kill us, we’ll know we’re getting warmer.”

“I know you’re joking, but that doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy,” Hugo calls out as Eve walks into the stacks, aimlessly looking for the next book that will likely provide no answers.

As she wanders, drawing her finger across the many textured spines of books on the shelves, she tries to clear her mind. Something deep in the recesses of her memory is nagging at her. It’s a familiar feeling for Eve, a feeling that precedes an epiphany that will crack a case open. The problem is, she can’t force the epiphany, but she’s learned that by quieting her mind and letting her thoughts pace of their own accord, it will come together eventually.

She lets her eyes wander over the books and tries to narrow down the source of the nagging thought. Something she heard early on, in her interviews. Something that didn’t seem important at the time, but is now calling out to her. 

Something they heard from Aaron? No, he really was just an asshole who had the misfortune of being placed near several of the kills. From Anna? Eve tries to remember exactly what was said in her first conversation with Anna, before Villanelle was even on the table as a suspect. 

They talked about the Tentacula, briefly of course. Then some small talk about Hogwarts. Then Anna read Eve’s tea leaves – was that reading even credible, given that Divination isn’t even Anna’s original specialty? She warned Eve about a “powerful enemy”… was she knowingly referring to Villanelle? Gears begin to turn in Eve’s head. Is Anna Leonova complicit in the string of murders? Or is she in the dark, just another unfortunate soul who happens to be in the near orbit of the deaths?

But as she thinks herself in circles, the nagging in the back of her mind persists. No, the suspicion about Anna and her sickness is already plainly on the table; it’s something else entirely that’s bugging her now. Who else did she talk to that day?

A rush of inspiration fills Eve. She isn’t sure yet if this idea holds any relevance, but her gut takes over and guides her feet towards the History section of the library. History – or would it be in the Mythology section?

She decides to check History first. As she rapidly scans the book titles, looking for one that might hold what she needs, she freezes. She heard something. Soft steps. She looks around, but can’t spot the source of the noise – Kenny and Elena are all still at the table over by the circulation desk, reading, and Hugo has risen to look for a new book a few shelves away from Eve. But the noise came from the opposite direction.

Eve tries to return to her search, but now fear spikes through her bloodstream, along with the uncomfortable sensation that she’s being watched. Could Villanelle be near her right now, spying? It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Another sound, closer this time, and Eve doesn’t pause to think. She wheels around and shouts, “ _Flipendo!_ ” 

With a boom, the bookshelf next to her tips and falls, leaning into the next one and creating a domino effect. After the bangs and rumbles clear and the flying pages settle, Eve sees the source of the sound – Peeves, the castle’s poltergeist, hovering gleefully around the wreckage, laughing. 

Eve looks across the wrecked bookshelves to Elena, whose mouth is agape. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly.

“I think you’ve done enough research for the day,” Elena replies curtly.

  
After spending a few minutes helping Elena magically restore and repair the mess she’d made in the library, Eve exits the library with Hugo, who is gingerly examining his right leg. One of the bookshelves swiped him as it fell, tearing his trousers and leaving a nasty scrape on his leg.

“I’m sorry, Hugo,” Eve says for about the twentieth time. “I thought she was there, and I panicked.”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” Hugo says.

“Let’s get you to the hospital wing.”

Hugo shakes his head. “It’s not so bad. And I think it’s for the best if we get out of the school right now. Not only because you’re paranoid,” he says, “But also because I think your paranoia may not be unfounded.”

“But your leg–”

“I can handle it,” Hugo says. “We can stop in the greenhouse on our way back and pick up some of that Dittany Professor Ko was growing. I still remember how to make a healing potion or two.”

  
The greenhouse has an eerie air about it. Since no one has been there since Professor Ko’s death, a few of the faster-growing plants are unruly and overgrown, but otherwise, there isn’t much sign of any disturbance, since the crime scene was cleaned up and Jin’s body was taken to the morgue.

They make their way through the narrow aisle between the plants to where they first spoke with Jin, in front of the dozens of pots of Dittany. As Hugo reaches to rip a few leaves off of one of the plants, he’s interrupted by a thin voice. “It’s more effective if you trim them right from the main stem. I’m sure I taught you that, Mr. Hawtrey.”

Both Eve and Hugo wheel around, drawing their wands and readying to fend off an attack, but instead, they are greeted with the sight of the faint, white, translucent apparition of Jin floating before them.

“Professor Ko!” Hugo gasps. “We had no idea you were still...” he pauses, searching for the right euphemism, “…around.”

“I had to stay and look after the plants,” Jin says, plainly. “But in this state, I can no longer care for them. And no one else has appeared to do so.”

Eve and Hugo exchange a glance. “Jin…” Eve starts. “I don’t know how to say, this, but–”

“You want to know who killed me,” she says. “No need to dance around it.” She looks off in the distance wistfully, if ghosts can be wistful. “I promised that I would send that monster to Azkaban and I plan to make good on that promise.”

“So the killer was…” Eve prompts.

“Villanelle Astankova.”

Eve bites her lip, trying to hold back a cheer of triumph since that would be in relatively poor taste in front of the ghost. “Would you be willing to testify to that effect to a judge from the Ministry?”

“Gladly.”

Eve turns back to Hugo. “There’s precedent. Margareta the Merciless was finally put away thanks to testimony from the ghosts of twelve of her victims.”

They thank Jin profusely and promise they’ll be back soon.

As soon as they’re out of the green house, Eve squeals, “We did it!” and pulls Hugo in for a hug. They squeeze each other and jump excitedly.

“My heart’s pounding,” Hugo gasps with delight. “But this is it. With all the other evidence, this seals it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“We solved it,” Eve says. “And we proved it.” Even as she says it aloud, it feels too good to be true.

“Let’s get the hell away from here, before we find out Villanelle’s actually been snooping on us this whole time,” Hugo says.

They make their way back to the Three Broomsticks and work together on writing up a full report of their findings and a request for a team of Dementors to come and perform the arrest. No reason to take any chances with how dangerous Villanelle has proven to be. Once it’s fully written up, Eve attaches the heavy scroll to Phoebe’s leg and sends her off to the Ministry.

“Should be here tomorrow,” Eve says. “I expect Carolyn will come, too. For a case of this magnitude she’ll want to see it through properly.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Hugo says, looking at Eve expectantly.

“Fucking _celebrate_ ,” Eve says.

“There’s the answer I was looking for.”

They post up downstairs and order a double round to start. No more need for caution; Eve can let herself loose without shame.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do once the case is officially closed?” Eve asks Hugo. “Get a drink with dreamy Professor Pargrave?”

“You know? I just might.”

“Is he–”

“Married? Yes.” Hugo shakes his head sadly, then grins, and adds, “But it’s an open marriage.”

“You devil!” Eve prods Hugo encouragingly. 

“What about you?” Hugo fires back. “It wasn’t long ago we sat at this very same table. Talking about your divorce. You’re still in need of a good rebound. Unless you’ve been getting busy without telling me…”

“No, I have not found time in between the murders to sneak a little sex in.”

“But did anyone at Hogwarts catch your eye?”

The only face that flashes through Eve’s mind, oddly enough, is the face of their soon to be arrested murderer. Eve remembers their very first day at Hogwarts, when she bumped into Villanelle outside Konstantin’s office. The first time she saw that innocent, inaccessible face. Before she had any idea of their connection, or that Villanelle was capable of such brutal violence. “Um, no,” she manages, “I’ve been so focused on this case that I’ve hardly noticed anyone.”

“Not Professor Haleton? I bet he’d be very gentle. Probably cry during.”

“Hugo!” Eve smacks him on the arm.

“Or, you know who’s probably great for a shag? Big-Tits-Gemma.”

“Who?”

“Professor Pierson! That’s what the kids call her.”

“You’re gross,” Eve says, taking a sip of her firewhiskey. 

“Don’t pretend like we can’t all see them, Eve.” He takes a sip as well, then abruptly puts down his glass. “Ooh! Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

“Is that really in the best taste?” Eve asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“No one else is gonna die, we’re about to get the murderer,” Hugo waves a hand as if to ward off the protest. “So Fuck, Marry, Kill: Professor Haleton, Professor Pierson, Professor Lawson.”

Eve laughs. “No. Fuck, Marry, Kill: Konstantin, Carolyn, and a troll. I think I’d marry the troll…”

They allow themselves a pleasant night, as is deserved. Just when the case looked most hopeless, they solved it. What a picture-perfect ending.They made a pretty good team after all, Eve thinks as she heads upstairs for her final night sleeping at the Three Broomsticks.

As she readies for bed, something compels her to put her wand under her pillow. She’s probably being paranoid, but she won’t be able to rest fully peacefully until the arrest paperwork is signed and the Dementors take the killer away. 

It’s rather early to be going to bed, but it’s for the best since Eve finds herself having trouble falling asleep. She tosses and turns, trying not to worry about what might go wrong before tomorrow. Trying not to dwell on the fact that they never learned what left the matching marks on the bodies. Trying not to picture young Oksana Astankova alone and miserable in Azkaban.

* * *

  
Villanelle knows she would make an excellent Auror if it comes to that. Certainly, she’s determined to find the answer to the doubts playing at her mind faster than Eve Polastri and Hugo Hawtrey have investigated the murders.

She skips her classes the next day in order to snoop on Anna, wearing her Invisibility Cloak. Her plan was to only stay for a few minutes, see confirmation that Anna’s mysterious silence in the hallway was nothing more than coincidence, but the longer she watches, the more clear it becomes that Anna hardly coughs, sways, or faints when not aware of Villanelle watching her.

Surely, Villanelle tells herself, it’s only because Anna makes the effort to hide her symptoms from other people, but around Villanelle, she is able to drop the act, and ease her suffering. That must be it.

As much as Villanelle would like to believe that, she’s too smart to be able to ignore the glaring red flag she’s uncovered. And, hypothetically, if she allows herself to consider the possibility that Anna is not sick, and maybe never has been, wouldn’t it explain so many other oddities? Why no Healers could identify the source of the illness, and why each dose of magic had such varying effects in how long it staved off her symptoms?

Although it makes a disturbing amount of sense, she can hardly bear to believe it, let alone confront Anna about it, without any concrete proof.

When she returns to Defense Against the Dark Arts class that afternoon after watching Anna show absolutely no symptoms throughout half a day of teaching, a plan begins to form in her head. A risky plan, but one that might serve to benefit her whether her suspicion is correct or not.

Once the final class of the day is dismissed, she decides there’s no use waiting until the dead of night – at this point, getting caught by the Aurors is her least concern. She walks right down to the History of Magic Classroom, not bothering with her Cloak.

She walks up to Max’s desk, where he is scribbling away on a parchment and waits half a minute or so until he finally senses her presence and looks up.

“Ms. Astankova!” he greets her, removing his reading glasses. “Welcome.”

Villanelle can’t help but smile a bit. She’s wanted to have this conversation for a very, very long time. “Do you know why I am here?”

“A question about today’s lecture, perhaps?” Max’s eyes brim with innocence.

“Maxi, boy, come on,” Villanelle chuckles.

Max only responds with a quizzical look.

Villanelle sighs. “You know what is between me and your wife?”

“I don’t…”

“Anna and I?” Villanelle asks. “You must know, on some level. You are a smart man. A weak man, but a smart man. You know, but you are too afraid to acknowledge it.”

Maxi clears his throat. “If you don’t have a question about class, I need to get back to work…”

Villanelle leans forward onto the desk, putting her face only inches from Max’s. “You know that we meet every night? You know that we kiss? That I touch her body?”

“Stop,” he whispers.

“When was the last time you touched your wife, Maxi? If you can’t fulfill the duties of a husband, don’t be surprised when someone else comes along to do it.”

Max takes a deep breath, then finally says, “If she is happy, then… I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Come on,” Villanelle says, dripping with disbelief. “I am telling you I fucked your wife, and you are giving me permission?” She slaps her hand down on the desk. “Be a man! Fight for her!”

“I am a peaceful person,” Max squeaks. 

“No one is _that_ peaceful,” Villanelle says. Then, an idea. She can find out for herself what Max’s angle is. Even though Anna refused to ever teach her, Villanelle understands the general process of Legilimency, and while she can’t do it with a single look like Anna, she can try the basic way. She aims her wand straight at Max’s face and says, “ _Legilimens!_ ”

Maybe it’s because Villanelle has a natural talent, or maybe it’s because Max’s mental barrier is no stronger than butter, but her first-ever attempt at Legilimency is succesful. With a rush, she enters his mind. It’s a half-familiar feeling, since she’s experienced it from his shoes before, in her early lessons with Anna, before she became skilled enough in Occlumency to repel every attempt to breach her mind. Max has no fight in him at all; he is like an open book set down on the table for Villanelle to peruse.

She flicks through his memories and feelings like a stack of photographs. His love for Anna takes up much of his mind, and it’s familiar to Villanelle, because she’s felt it too. But Max is a fool to deal with it in the way he does. He’s so weak. So passive. But he’s completely honest. Inside his mind, Villanelle can see that he really does believe the way to show his love is to let her go. To let her die.

He is pathetic. Anna deserves better.

With a feeling like pulling her head out of a bath of ice-cold water, Villanelle returns to the real world. Max is trembling like a bowl of jelly.

“Do you know who’s been killing all these people?” Villanelle asks.

Max’s voice quavers as he says, “I’m starting to think, you?”

“Do you know why?”

“Because you’re terrifying and evil?”

“I’m in love,” Villanelle says, aiming her wand again. “ _Avada Kedavra_.”

A weak method of killing for a weak man. Villanelle draws his magic into the stone and leaves without any further preoccupation.

Since she’s already throwing caution to the wind, she walks through the still-crowded halls to meet Anna in her classroom.

“Hello,” Anna greets her cheerily. No indication that she knew Villanelle was watching her. Good.

“How are you feeling?” Villanelle asks.

“I am managing,” Anna says, then bursts out coughing. The timing is almost laughable. _Wait,_ Villanelle reminds herself. There’s still a chance she’s worrying over nothing.

She pulls the warm, glowing stone from her pocket and holds it out to Anna. “This will help.”

Anna snatches the stone from Villanelle’s hand hungrily, clutching it close to her. “Very good, my love. Very good.”

“Don’t you want to know who it’s from?”

Anna looks back at Villanelle, a note of confusion in her glance. “Who?”

“Look and see,” Villanelle says quietly, grabbing Anna’s hand, and bringing it up to caress her cheek. She stares at Anna, who looks back, fixing her with an absolutely penetrating gaze, the sort she’d use when training Villanelle in Occlumency, but this time, Villanelle does not throw up her defenses. She lets Anna look straight into her mind, to see the flash of green light, and Max flopping forward onto his desk.

This is the moment. Anna will scream, she will chastise Villanelle, mourn her innocent husband. She will weep that his life should be taken to preserve hers. Villanelle knows people well enough to know that is the expected response.

Villanelle can see the exact moment when Anna learns what she’s done. Anna releases her touch on Villanelle and looks away. The few seconds of silence stretch into an eternity. The only noise is a wet _snap_ as the Tentacula in the corner snatches up a Chizpurfle from the windowsill and drops it into its gaping mouth.

Villanelle experiences those few seconds in slow motion, every tiny motion heightened. Anna’s shoulders rise as she takes in a breath, readies to speak. Here it comes…

“It is a shame,” Anna says, her voice low and gravelly, “The cost of what we do. But life is full of difficult decisions.”

_No._

Villanelle waits for the spark inside her to catch, for the explosion that will surely come, but nothing happens. She’s empty. Without even trying. Without focusing on her mind-clearing Occlumency techniques. Like everything has been sucked out of her. Only the void remains.

“Thank you, darling,” Anna’s words echo through the hollow space inside Villanelle. “You have done so much to protect me. I love you.” And now her arms are around Villanelle, and Villanelle’s arms are returning the embrace automatically. 

“I have to go,” Villanelle hears herself say, but her own voice sounds very far away.

“So soon?” Anna says, looking at her with concern. “You don’t want to stay?” She runs a finger down Villanelle’s chin. “Stay the night?”

“I would love nothing more,” Villanelle says. “But I have a huge Charms paper to write, and if I miss another assignment, it will arouse suspicion.”

“All right. Come back and meet me when you finish.” Anna says, fixing Villanelle with an odd look. Villanelle knows, if she lets her guard down, Anna will see into her thoughts, and see that she knows. So she forces all thoughts away, keeps her mind blank.

Villanelle climbs down through the trapdoor as fast as she can manage, then goes to the only place she can think to turn.

In the soft blue light of dusk, she makes her way, as she did once before, to the Three Broomsticks. This time, instead of entering Hugo’s bedroom, she creeps into the next one over.

The door creaks slightly as Villanelle enters, and Eve sits up like a rocket, pointing her wand in the direction of the door.

Reflexively, Villanelle aims at Eve and says, “ _Expelliarmus_.” Eve’s wand flies through the air, and Villanelle reaches out a hand to catch it. 

Taking a step towards the bed, Villanelle slips off her cloak and holds both her and Eve’s wands above her head in surrender. “Hello, Eve. I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, no more split chapters. Yes, that's right, Eve and Villanelle will be together until the end.
> 
> Let me know what you think! or hit me up on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable)
> 
> P.S. sorry to my fellow Anna fans. I love that complicated gal, but this is my penance for making her a martyr in [the last fic I wrote about her.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750973)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle solicits Eve and Hugo's assistance in stopping the true villain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, baby. This fic has been so challenging to write. But we're so near the end. I hope you enjoy each of the last few chapters.

Disarmed, cornered, and in her pajamas, Eve falls on her next line of defense: she screams bloody murder.

Villanelle’s eyes bulge as she steps closer and waggles both wands at Eve. “Stop screaming! I am not going to hurt you!”

Eve continues, as it seems the only appropriate reaction when facing down a murderer in her bedroom.

“ _Silencio!_ ” Villanelle says, and although Eve’s mouth remains open, and she forces air through her ragged vocal cords, no sound emerges.

“I am not going to hurt you,” Villanelle repeats, though given the context, Eve finds it entirely unconvincing.

Then, the door bursts open with a bang and Hugo pelts into the room in his pajamas, wand drawn and pointed at Villanelle. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” he bellows, and Villanelle’s wand flies out of her hand. Then, Hugo notices she still has a wand in her other hand, and opens his mouth again, but Villanelle widens her eyes and drops the other wand of her own accord, raising her open hands in surrender.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it a long time ago,” Villanelle says. “Can we just talk?”

“ _Incarcerous!_ ” Hugo says, and a thick rope shoots out from his wand and wraps itself around Villanelle’s hands, binding them together behind her back. A second rope binds her ankles, and she stumbles to her knees.

“Are you alright?” Hugo calls to Eve as he walks over to pry the two wands out of Villanelle’s hands. Eve waves and points at her throat, but it isn’t until Hugo looks up and sees her frantic motions that he understands what happened, and quickly reverses the Silencing Charm.

“Thank you.” Eve gets out of bed and walks over to where Villanelle is kneeling, looking altogether bored. “Oksana Astankova,” she addresses her, “You are under arrest for the murders of Kasia Molkovska, Carla De Mann–”

“Are you really–”

“–Davide Greco, Gabriel Belanger–”

“You’re really listing them all, okay.”

“–Jin Ko, and Aaron Peel.”

“And Max Leonov,” Villanelle says.

“What?”

Hugo looks at Eve as if to confirm that he heard correctly. “Did she break into your room just to confess to another murder?”

Villanelle closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I have some information that you will really want to hear, so will you please let me talk?”

“Our only job was to catch the killer and, we’ve got you, so…” Hugo sighs. “Dementors will be here by morning to take you off to your new home in Azkaban.”

Ignoring Hugo, Villanelle looks directly into Eve’s eyes, and says, “Means, motive, opportunity.” 

Eve feels a chill down her spine. 

“You told me once,” Villanelle continues, “that those three are key elements to catching any criminal.”

“And we’ve got solid evidence that it’s you, so–”

“What is my motive, Eve?” Villanelle asks softly.

Although Eve has spent most of her waking hours in the past week pondering that very question, it still catches her off guard. Her mouth suddenly goes very dry. “Love?” she croaks.

“Oh, come off it,” Hugo scoffs.

“I loved her!” Villanelle bellows, and the room rattles. A large crack appears in Eve’s mirror.

Hugo grimaces. “Shouldn’t we sedate her or something?”

Eve holds up a hand to silence Hugo. “Keep talking,” she says to Villanelle.

“She was sick. She made me believe. She is a Legilimens, but you know that by now, don’t you Eve? You must have figured that out, and the Occlumency too, if you planned to arrest me.”

Eve tries to keep up with what Villanelle’s saying. “Anna’s not sick?”

“She let me think every bit of it was my idea. But the whole time – she just happened to recommend me a book about the healing properties of magical exposure – and she knew what Max was teaching us in class, when she let me stumble upon the stone, on her shelf like a knickknack – how ironic that Max had it right in front of him and never realized its true power. But she knew I’d figure it out.” Villanelle looks up to see if Eve is following. “You figured it out, too, didn’t you, Eve? At least on some level?”

“Prometheus,” Eve murmurs. “You weren’t just killing people, you were stealing their magic.”

“I was going to save her,” Villanelle says softly.

“By murdering the whole school one by one?” Hugo says incredulously.

“That is a better reason, than for _fun_ , isn’t it?” Villanelle says with a half-smile.

“Doesn’t matter what the reason is,” Hugo says. “You’re still going to Azkaban.”

“Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” Villanelle says. “I am the least of your problems now.”

Hugo turns to Eve. “What is she on about? Just trying to confuse us?”

“No,” Eve says. “I think she’s actually trying to warn us.”

“That’s what I just said!” Villanelle exclaims, full of exasperation. 

Eve counts quickly on her fingers. “If this is true, then Anna has seven people’s worth of magic stocked up. And if she isn’t using it to heal…” Eve looks at Hugo. “This could be really, really bad.”

“Well,” Hugo scratches his head, “even if that’s all true, and I’m not convinced it is – the solution is obvious. We wait for the Dementors to get here, and have them take Anna away too.”

“You’re not listening to me,” Villanelle groans. “We don’t have until morning. She basically dropped the act, which means she’s on the brink of victory. By the time she finishes absorbing all of Max’s magic, she will be unstoppable. That’s why you have to do something _now_.”

Hugo stares down at Villanelle. “You say you love Anna?”

Villanelle swallows. “Yes.”

“You’re keeping it together awfully well for someone who was used and betrayed by the woman you loved so much you’d kill for her.”

Villanelle does not say anything, but her lip begins to tremble ever so slightly. Then, tears well up and overflow, leaving wide trails down her red cheeks.

“Hugo!” Eve hisses.

“I’m sorry,” Hugo stammers, searching for words to undo the damage.

Then, with a large sniff, Villanelle looks up. Though her face is tear-streaked, her eyes are cold and businesslike. “Good enough for you?”

“I don’t…” Hugo is at even more of a loss than before.

“We are wasting time,” Villanelle says impatiently. “Are you going to help stop a dark wizard, like Aurors are supposed to? Or are you going to wait around like cowards until she destroys the entire countryside?”

Eve and Hugo exchange a long glance. Eventually, bracing herself for the inevitable reaction, Eve says, “I trust her.”

“Really?” Hugo explodes. “She already lied to us under Veritaserum. Why on earth should we believe this insane story?”

“We already sent off the message to the Ministry. They’ll come arrest her either way.” She looks at Villanelle. “You heard that? There’s nothing for you to gain by killing us now.”

Villanelle offers no other response than a roll of her eyes.

“So just to be clear,” Hugo says, “If she is lying, we are walking straight into a trap laid for us by the murderer and her accomplice, on our last night of the case. If she’s telling the truth, we’re instead facing down a super-powered mastermind who manipulated an entire murder plot for her own benefit, without any backup?”

“That’s the shape of things,” Eve replies. “I’m going to go, but I won’t force you to come. Are you in?”

Hugo shakes his head with a nervous smile. “You’re the lead officer.” He points his wand at Villanelle and mutters, “ _Relashio_ ,” causing the ropes around her to unwind and vanish. “I really, really think I’m going to regret this,” he groans.

“First things first. I’m not about to make an arrest in my pajamas,” Eve says, going over to her dresser and taking out an outfit. She looks at Villanelle expectantly.

“What?” She shrugs. “I won’t look.”

“Hugo,” Eve prompts him, and he grabs Villanelle by the collar and drags her, protesting, towards the door.

Hugo scoops up Villanelle’s cloak from the ground. “Of _course_ you have an Invisibility Cloak,” he groans, Villanelle reaches out for it, but he yanks it away. “You really think we’re gonna let you disappear off into the night again at this point?”

“Where did you get it?” Eve asks.

“It belonged to my grandmother. Konstantin passed it onto me for my eighteenth birthday.”

“And of course he conveniently forgot to mention it to us,” Eve grumbles. “Couldn’t imagine that would be relevant to the investigation.”

Once they go, Eve changes and meets them downstairs, and they begin the journey back to Hogwarts. Aurors and criminal. Unlikely companions. 

“Hey, one other thing,” Villanelle asks, her voice surprisingly energized, as they walk down the main path of Hogsmeade. “If you didn’t know about the actual stone of Prometheus yet… how were you planning to arrest me? On what grounds?”

Eve can’t help but laugh a little, that she finally got one step ahead of Villanelle. “Your old friend Professor Ko hung around, said she had some unfinished business. To put you in Azkaban.”

Villanelle kicks a stone down the path. “I hate ghosts.”

They continue the journey back to Hogwarts in silence. Sometimes, Eve will get an odd feeling, and look over to Villanelle, expecting to catch her staring at Eve, but she always looks away at that exact instant. The three of them walking along in the darkness… it’s surreal. Eve wonders if she might be dreaming. Last-night jitters. But no, the feeling of the night wind cutting through her robes and chilling her very bones, the dapple of stars in the sky, the way the constellations are reflected in Villanelle’s wide eyes – all of the details are too clear, too vivid for it to possibly be a dream.

When they reach the school, Villanelle leads them straight toward the Divination classroom. “Let me go in first,” she says to Eve and Hugo. “She doesn’t know I figured it out yet. You two get under the Invisibility Cloak, so you can watch, and you can see I’m telling the truth.”

“And then?” Hugo asks.

“Then you do your job,” Villanelle says, then opens the trapdoor and begins climbing the ladder.

It’s rather awkward for Eve and Hugo to fit underneath the Invisibility Cloak together, even more so as they struggle to climb up through the trapdoor while remaining covered, but they manage somehow and huddle, invisibly, while Villanelle greets Anna, “I’m back.”

Anna looks up from the hefty book she was poring over. “Finished your paper already? My clever girl.”

She walks over to Villanelle and pulls her in for a kiss. Eve can’t help but notice that Villanelle pulls back quickly. 

Anna rubs a thumb under Villanelle’s chin. “You brought something with you.”

Villanelle says nothing and remains perfectly still. 

Anna turns and announces to the room, “Invisibility does not do much good when your mind is so loud, Eve. Hugo.”

Hugo shifts and lets the cloak slip off of them, bringing them back into plain view. “I knew it was a trap. I bloody knew it.”

But Eve isn’t so sure, based on the way Anna tilts her head at Villanelle, and asks “Why did you bring them here, darling?”

Villanelle remains silent, so Eve decides to take the lead. She draws her wand and takes aim at Anna. “Anna Leonova, you’re under arrest for your part in the series of murders. It will be easier for all of us if you come quietly.” This is the point where she would normally try to disarm the perp, but Anna isn’t even holding her wand in the first place.

Anna gives Eve a pitying smile, a familiar look, the same look she had taken on when Eve professed her dislike of Divination. “Eve, when we met, I warned you that investigating this case would bring you doom. That you faced a powerful enemy.”

Anna pauses, and Eve is suddenly distracted by a persistent skittering noise, and looks down to see a line of several Chizpurfles climbing along the floor determinedly. The swarm of magic-eating insects make a beeline towards Anna.

Anna notices them, too, and makes a tiny flicking gesture with her index finger towards them. A small bolt of white sparks shoot out from her finger and hit the first Chizpurfle in the line, causing it and its comrades to burst into flames. 

“I like you, Eve,” Anna says, and is Eve imagining it, or are her eyes starting to take on a ghastly glow? “I wish you heeded my warning back then, but I will give you one final chance: leave now and stay out of my way, and I may spare you.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Hugo says.

“You might be powerful,” Eve says, “But you’re also outnumbered.”

“Am I?” Anna says, innocently. 

At once, all eyes in the room fall on Villanelle, who is standing frozen, her face just as blank as it was when Eve interrogated her under the Veritaserum.

Was she really on Anna’s side this whole time? Did Eve and Hugo stumble right into an incredibly obvious trap? Eve can’t quite articulate why, but she felt so sure that Villanelle was telling the truth earlier… 

Anna is approaching Villanelle again, speaking softly in a singsongy voice. “My sweet, my love. I knew you would figure it out eventually. You are so very smart. And I am glad that you did, because you deserve to see the fruits of your labor.” She’s right next to Villanelle now, practically whispering. “None of this would have been possible without you, Oksana.”

Villanelle swallows, and for the first time since entering, speaks. “I am _Villanelle_!” 

Her words are almost drowned out by the explosion that accompanies them, as every window around the room, every teacup on the shelf, every crystal ball and enchanted mirror around the classroom, abruptly bursts into pieces.

Eve ducks and raises her arm to shield her face, but the impact never comes. She looks up to see that Anna has raised a single hand, palm forward, and is holding all of the shrapnel, what must be millions of pieces of porcelain and glass, frozen in midair.

Perhaps coming to confront Anna without any backup was a mistake after all.

For all this show of power, Anna still seems remarkably calm, utterly unconcerned about Eve and Hugo’s presence, which worries Eve still more. Instead of paying any attention to trying to subdue them, she’s only directing her attention towards Villanelle, still trying to win back her loyalty. 

Seeing the opportunity, Hugo glances around, leans out the empty window frame, then shouts at the top of his lungs, “ _Accio_ Firebolt!”

“What are you doing?”  
  
“Nadia’s broom!” Hugo says. “I’ll fly us out of here!”

“Do you even know where she keeps it?” Eve asks. “It could take ten minutes to get here!”

“Do you have a better plan?” Hugo hisses back.

Eve directs her attention back to Anna, who has approached Villanelle and is now stroking her on the cheek, cooing softly in Russian. Though she doesn’t speak a word of Russian, Eve guesses that she’s saying something along the lines of _“why don’t you kill these two so I can suck their magic out and take over the world?”_

Eve can hardly breathe as she awaits Villanelle’s response. All around the room, she sees Villanelle’s face reflected in the suspended shards of glass, hesitant, frozen.

After what feels like an eternity, Villanelle reaches up, puts her hand on top of Anna’s hand, and decisively throws it off of her. 

Anna sighs, looking slightly disappointed but not altogether shocked at this reaction. With a flick of her hand, Anna takes control of the cloud of glass shards and sends them hurtling towards Eve and Hugo like a swarm of angry bees. Eve barely has time to raise her wand and throw up a shield charm, but there are so many shards, she doesn’t think it will be enough. She ducks her head underneath her arm as a small extra measure, and hears an awful yell, but feels no impact upon her own skin.

Tentatively, she peeks her head out, and her heart catches in her throat. Hugo is on the floor, clothes and skin torn apart in a thousand places by the storm of glass, blood trickling out of each tiny cut and forming an alarmingly large pool on the floor. He had tried to shield too; Eve had seen him out of the corner of her eye, but evidently it wasn’t enough.

Eve spares a glance behind her and sees Villanelle with her wand raised, outstretched towards Eve. It seems the only reason Eve made it through unscathed was due to Villanelle helping to shield her. But Hugo, left on his own, is now suffering the consequences.

“No!” Eve shouts, though it’s in vain, for Anna has already descended upon Hugo’s body. He’s not dead yet – Eve can see his chest heaving, hear gurgles of pain and fear escaping his throat, but Anna is on him, and putting something onto his bloody mangled skin – a small gray stone. 

“Eve!” Villanelle calls out, and Eve looks up to see where Villanelle is pointing. The Firebolt that Hugo summoned zooms through the open window. Eve catches it as it crosses the room, but she can’t bear the thought of leaving without Hugo.

At least Anna is distracted for the moment – pressing the stone onto Hugo’s skin and muttering some incantation. Eve’s stomach turns as she realizes she’s seeing the magic sucked out of Hugo in real time.

“Let’s go!” Villanelle shouts, grabbing Eve by the arm and dragging her to the window. “Get on!” she commands. Eve looks down in a daze, having almost forgotten she’s holding the Firebolt. 

“I can’t leave him–”

“He’s already gone!” Villanelle says, desperately. 

Eve spares one last glance at Hugo, looking into his eyes, trying to communicate the depths of her regret. She’s not sure if he is even able to see her, let alone understand, before the light fades from his eyes. Then, a low, horrifying chuckle as Anna pulls the stone away from Hugo’s corpse, holds it up like a glowing red coal, the blood-red light reflected in her greedy eyes. Then she clutches it tightly in her fist, taking Hugo’s power for herself.

Biting back her fear, and anger, and self-loathing, Eve straddles the broom, feels Villanelle clamber on behind her and wrap her arms tightly around Eve’s torso, then catapults them out of the window into the night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about Hugo
> 
> feel free to yell at me in the comments
> 
> or on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable) xoxoxo


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Villanelle flee for their lives on the Firebolt, but escape proves more difficult than expected.

The wind whips past them as they rocket out the window on the Firebolt, but Villanelle can’t see what’s ahead, or around them, because her entire face is embedded in a whipping mess of dark curly hair.

“Get this out of my face,” Villanelle groans, trying to tuck it back in in vain.

“You’re the one who told me to wear it down!” Eve screams back.

Villanelle is beginning to regret the choice of letting Eve steer. She has a feeling that if Hugo had been the one at the helm, the ride would be much less choppy, but indisposed as he is, they’d have to make do with Eve’s limited skills. Even on the Firebolt, well known to be the smoothest and easiest broom to ride, Eve somehow makes it swerve and buck for a bumpy ride. 

In order to keep from falling to her death, Villanelle has to lean forward and throw one arm around Eve. Her other hand clutches her wand, which she waves to conjure up a golden ribbon which ties Eve’s hair into a messy ponytail, improving her visibility slightly. 

But soon, Villanelle needs to use both hands to hold on tight as Eve takes them on a sharp drop, away from the Divination tower, and vaguely in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. “Where are you going?” Villanelle says, raising her voice despite their closeness, to be heard over the roar of the wind.

“Away!” Eve shouts back.

Villanelle feels blessed to have a strong stomach as Eve takes them on a lurching series of loops. Villanelle looks back towards the tower, which is growing smaller and smaller as they fly away, but a white light still shines from the window of the Divination tower, growing brighter and brighter. No, not just brighter... It’s growing _closer_. How can that be?

Then Villanelle notices the light is not from the window. It is Anna. Apparently, it did not take her very long to absorb Hugo’s magic, and the effect is drastic. A vaguely humanoid figure, obscured by the fact that a starburst of white light is emanating from her, is flying out from the window. Coming after them.

“Eve, I need you to do exactly what I say,” Villanelle says, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring despite the fact that she’s shouting. “Give me your wand. But do not look back.”

“What?” Eve turns to look at Villanelle, and lets out a terrified scream upon seeing Anna behind them, letting the broom fall into an uncontrolled nosedive.

“I said don’t look back!”

“We’re gonna die!” Eve wails.

“Stop screaming and steer!” Villanelle commands. She throws her weight forward into Eve’s back, and reaches forward around Eve’s body to grab Eve’s hands and place them firmly on the front shaft of the broom, at the same time, slipping Eve’s wand out from her fingers.

Villanelle squeezes her thighs as tightly around the broom as she can while she cranes her neck backwards and takes aim at their pursuer with two wands – her own in her right hand, and Eve’s in her left. 

Anna, or rather, the supernova shaped like Anna, is gaining on them, hurtling through the air like a magic rocket. Her body is a white glowing ball of magic energy – she can’t be more than a hundred meters behind them. With a wave of her arm, she sends a bolt of white sparks hurtling at them. Villanelle whips up Eve’s wand to produce a Shield Charm, which bounces the attack away harmlessly, in the same instant taking aim at Anna with her own wand and shouting _“Stupefy!”_

Anna swerves to dodge the red flash of the Stunning Spell and puts on another burst of speed, beginning to close the distance.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Villanelle says as she uses both wands to put up an extra large shield against Anna’s next attack.

“I don’t know,” Eve screams. “I’m just trying to hold on.”

“Do _something!_ ”

Apparently, Eve’s idea of "doing something" is to take them at a sharp angle downwards, bringing them dangerously close to crashing into the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, then jerking them up at the last second. Strong stomach or no, if Villanelle hadn’t missed dinner that night, it would be coming up right about now.

As soon as she’s sure she won’t fall off, Villanelle turns back and resumes her double-wanded attack against their pursuer. In spite of the danger, she finds it rather exhilarating. The power and versatility of having both wands, the ability to launch a double attack, or parry with one wand while she strikes with the other, is a rush like she’s never felt before, and she wonders why she’s never tried dual-wielding before. Indeed, the two twin wands seem almost happy to be working together, with a natural synergy. Villanelle ceases to think, and lets the wands guide her hands, a symphony of spellwork.

But although Villanelle is doing the best magic of her life, Anna seems utterly undeterred, flying along weightlessly, literally untouchable.

“How much longer can she chase us?” Eve shouts.

“I don’t think she is going to give up,” Villanelle replies.

They’re careening over the grounds now, rounding the bend of the tree line and turning towards the lake. Anna lobs a huge fiery orb at them, and Villanelle screams “Down!” causing Eve to take another sharp dive towards the lake. She jerks the handle up to level them out just in time, flying so low that Villanelle’s toes skim the surface of the water, kicking up a spray of mist behind them. 

Anna has followed their descent, of course, reaching the lake surface and gliding along it like a jet-ski, chasing closer and closer, imitating their every turn like she is tethered to them by an invisible wire. The white glow of power radiating off of her reflects and refracts off the surface of the lake, creating a dazzling foot-light effect. She’s close enough now that Villanelle can see her face. The face of the woman she loved, though it’s barely recognizable; it has become ghastly, horrifying. White and gaunt and twisted and cruel.

“Why do you run from me, Oksana?” she calls, her voice distorted, layered with the voices of all those whose magic she’d stolen. “Let me touch you. Let me be with you forever.”

She does not launch another physical attack, but Villanelle can feel Anna pawing at her mind, trying to break in with Legilimency. She throws up her standard defenses – empties her mind, pictures a blank wall – but this is not like when Anna would test Villanelle’s defenses in her Occlumency lessons. Now, Anna is no longer holding back. Now, she has an extra eight wizards’ power behind her attack.

_Be empty, be the void…._

But she feels Anna clawing at her, pulling her true thoughts to the surface. Despite Villanelle’s skill, she cannot hold out for long against Anna’s raw power. 

So instead of trying to empty her mind, she decides to fill it instead.

She fills her mind with Eve. Eve Park, her wand-twin, whom Villanelle had been waiting to meet all her life, long before she ever knew Anna. Eve Polastri, the tense and arrogant Auror who is so easy to wind up. Eve who is so different from Anna. Eve who cares so much about everything. Eve. Eve. Eve.

She can feel Anna’s influence recoil at the purity of her thought and focus, so she digs in harder. _Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve._ It becomes a mantra, and she suddenly recalls the dream she had (could it really have been only a week ago?), where she envisioned an army of one thousand Annas. But now, they are one thousand Eves, and they all look pissed. Ready to fight Anna out of Villanelle’s head with all of their righteous might.

Finally, Villanelle feels Anna give up and slip out of her head. She laughs with triumph and sends a couple more stuns back at Anna, though she veers through the air to dodge them easily.

Eve is now steering them towards the Quidditch pitch, rising in altitude again. Although they’re still alive and unharmed, Villanelle feels growing concern. How much longer can they keep this up? Anna shows no sign of slowing; in fact, she is still gaining on them little by little.

Eve has grown more confident with controlling the broom, and loops them up and across the field, through one of the circular goalposts. A few seconds later, Anna flies through it behind them, and the white hot energy gathered around her sets the hoop alight with fire as she passes.

Neither Villanelle nor Eve say anything, but Villanelle can feel it in the way that Eve’s back tenses up that she also realizes that they can’t carry on forever like this. Villanelle turns back and screams _“Impedimenta!”_ , aiming both wands square at Anna for a double-strength Impediment Jinx. This scores a hit, and although that surely would’ve frozen most living creatures to a dead standstill, Anna slows only slightly in her magical flight, but enough to keep some distance between her and the broom.

However, as she slows, she hurls another ball of sparks at them, and Villanelle is unable to block in time. The sparks catch the tail of the broom, setting it alight. _“Aguamenti!”_ Villanelle says, sending a jet of water onto the flames to extinguish them, but the damage has already been done; the broom is now asymmetrical and unbalanced.

The Firebolt begins to spin out wildly, and despite Eve’s best efforts to keep them on course, there isn’t much to do other than cling to each other and the broom for dear life in order to avoid being flung off into the night air. Eve’s hair has escaped once again from the ribbon, and wraps around Villanelle’s face. Eve’s screaming rises in volume and pitch as they tumble through the air.

Peeking out of a tiny gap in Eve’s curls, Villanelle catches the wall of the castle hurtling closer and closer. Is it more pathetic, Villanelle wonders, to splatter against a castle wall, or to crack to pieces falling to the ground? 

Villanelle never gets to finish her internal debate because in their wild careening course, they narrowly avoid hitting the stone wall of the castle and make contact with a window instead, which isn’t the coziest embrace Villanelle has ever felt, but she’ll take it over the wall. The glass shatters as they crash through, and skid to a stop on the floor of Konstantin’s office, leaving a trail of destruction in their path.

Villanelle’s entire body aches, and she and Eve are so tangled up in a heap that she can hardly tell which limbs are hers until she wiggles a foot tentatively and manages to sit up. Though her head is pounding, her ears are ringing, and her left ankle feels like it may be sprained, she is in better shape than she could be, and she notes with relief that Eve is conscious and apparently unharmed as well.

She blinks stars from her eyes and looks up to finally notice the two very shocked people standing only a few feet from where they crash-landed. Konstantin, of course, wearing a dumbfounded look that Villanelle would appreciate a lot if not for the dire circumstances, and a woman of about the same age, with neatly trimmed brown hair and an air of undeniable authority, whom Villanelle recognizes from her regular appearances in the Daily Prophet to be the Minister of Magic, Carolyn Martens.

“Eve?” Carolyn asks, with only a trace of interest in her voice, more like she’d just run into Eve having a drink at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Minister,” Eve manages. “You made good time.”

“Yes,” Carolyn says. “I thought it important to be here and tie this up as promptly as possible. And unless I am mistaken,” she eyes Villanelle, “this is the perpetrator of the murders sitting next to you?”

“Uh,” Eve says, unable to produce a full word.

Eve is spared from having to explain the nature of how they came to be crashing through the window on a broom together, because at that moment, there’s another crash and a sizzle as Anna, or the huge storm of white light that used to be Anna, blows through the entire window frame and hovers in the center of the office.

There’s a fraction of an instant of calm where all five of them take in each other’s presence. Villanelle can feel the electricity in the air – the heat of imminent battle, and the literal heat radiating from Anna’s souped up magical aura. Then spells begin to fly.

Villanelle doesn’t think there are two better allies they could have in this battle than Konstantin and Carolyn. If either of them are surprised at the appearance of a supercharged magic spirit, they do not show it as they spring into action. Konstantin has erupted into his Animagus form, a huge grizzly bear with a white muzzle, a sight almost as intimidating as Anna’s magic supernova. And Carolyn Martens, while she is a “mere” human with a wand, is probably the most powerful wizard in all of the UK, maybe all of Europe, already lobbing an array of hexes towards Anna rapidly and nonverbally. 

Though, it still won’t be an easy fight. Anna has an extra eight people’s worth of magic inside her. Even if Konstantin and Carolyn are easily as powerful as two normal wizards, the odds still aren’t in their favor. 

Though, Villanelle supposes, aren’t she and Eve both worth two wizards as well? That puts this contest at roughly even odds. So, Villanelle decides: bring it on.

Leaning her weight on her uninjured leg, she hands Eve back her wand, then stands and begins throwing some spells of her own at the writhing human-shaped ball of white light before them. Anna turns wildly around, more distracted than actually harmed by the assault coming from all different directions. At the very least, having four different targets spreads out her attacks and makes it easier for each of them to shield when Anna hurls a ball of sparks at each of them.

Villanelle starts to grin, and allow herself to feel the exhilaration, savor the rush of adrenaline as she realizes that they might actually win. Anna clearly made a mistake, in going so far. Villanelle knows all too well that Anna’s true power was always in her wit, in her subtlety. If she had restrained herself and stopped with say, six or seven wizards’ worth of magic, she may have actually been able to cause whatever damage she hoped to cause, execute whatever scheme she had and get away with it. 

But this apparition of pure magic in front of them, hardly recognizable as human, seems beyond any kind of rational thought. Anna has ceased to be a person; she has transformed into a natural disaster. Villanelle almost, _almost,_ mourns her.

However, for all that they throw at her, her energy does not diminish; in fact, it only seems to increase. Is Villanelle imagining it, or has her body-slash-mass-of-light grown even taller, even more massive?

“She’s absorbing it all,” Carolyn calls out, her voice cutting through the magical crossfire. “We can’t harm her, not directly. We must throw so much at her that she cannot handle it.”

In between explosions and flashes of light, Villanelle sees Konstantin morph back into his human form and draw his wand. Villanelle spares a glance to Eve, by her side, doing the same. Eve nods at her. So Villanelle aims her wand at the monster in front of them and begins hurling every single spell she can think of. Jinxes. Hexes. Household charms. Ancient curses. 

As all four of them bombard Anna with more spells than the entire Hogwarts curriculum teaches, the storm of light and energy grows larger and larger, almost filling up the whole room. Villanelle senses Eve faltering, beginning to back away, though still keeping up the assault. Villanelle stands her ground.

The light and energy fills up the whole room. The heat rises rapidly, and Villanelle feels sweat blossoming on every inch of her body as she struggles to come up with more and more spells. The previous Headmasters in the portraits on the walls have all fled their frames, which seems a wise course of action, as several of them catch on fire.

Finally, just when Villanelle feels like she may collapse from the heat, the white light in front of them explodes into a huge ball of fire, venting out the broken window with a roar like a jet engine.

Disorientation reigns as Villanelle’s ears ring, her lungs choke on the acrid air, and her eyes blink to try to clear her vision. It takes a few seconds for the smoke and haze to clear, and Carolyn, who has kept her calm better than any of them, is sending a great jet of white foam out from the tip of her wand, pointing it all around the room to smother the remaining flames. She passes the jet over Villanelle, who doesn’t so much as flinch as the cool foam coats her. She wipes the foam from her face and once again, looks in Eve’s direction, letting out a sigh of relief as she sees a foam-covered, disheveled Eve standing next to her, _alive._

Konstantin walks over to the center of the wreckage, wading through the foam and charred remains of furniture, then stoops to pick something up. As he stands, Villanelle sees what he retrieved: a dull gray stone, about the size of a walnut. All that remains of Anna.

He walks back over to Carolyn and hands the stone to her for her examination. She squints at it, turns it over in her hands. Villanelle wonders if the questions will come immediately, or if they will be saved for the trial. They’re sure to use Veritaserum on her again, though she sees little reason to lie about the stone, or indeed about any part of the story now.

“Unfortunate,” Carolyn says, finally breaking the silence, as she holds the stone up to the light. “Anna Leonova is not the first to be seduced by the power of the Stone of Prometheus, but although her fall was inevitable, it remains unpleasant to watch someone succumb so completely to their own lust for power before one’s eyes.”

Villanelle can’t hide her look of surprise. Perhaps it shouldn’t come as a shock that the Minister of Magic recognizes this powerful artifact for what it is, but… how did she know that the humanoid storm of light they battled was actually Anna?

Before Villanelle can ponder further, Carolyn flicks out her wand and wordlessly performs a Full-Body Bind on Villanelle. She feels her muscles seize up, and she immediately falls to the floor with a _crunch_ as she lands upon a pile of debris. Eyes frozen in place, Villanelle can only stare at the ceiling.

“Dementors should be up in a few minutes,” Carolyn says calmly. “Eve, I must say, in spite of this colorful ending, you performed admirably on this case.”

Villanelle hears the crunch of footsteps, and Eve enters her field of vision, looking down at her with… is that regret? “I failed, though, Minister,” she says quietly. “So many people died. Hugo died. It’s my fault.”

“You needn’t be so hard on yourself,” Carolyn’s voice replies. “In all honesty, I had no expectation you would make it this far.” A pause. “I wish you hadn’t.”

Then, Villanelle hears a _crash_ close to her ear as Eve falls paralyzed to the ground right next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the cliffhanger... but I promised more twists, didn't I? ;)
> 
> lemme know what ya think
> 
> and come chat with me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable), I need distraction from the real world.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the final layer of the murder plot is revealed, Eve and Villanelle learn who has been pulling the strings all along, and fight to escape with their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've finished it.
> 
> This fic has been so fun, but also really, really hard to write. Downright exhausting. I've been dragging myself through it at points. But now I find myself very wistful that it's over.
> 
> I think you all will love or hate this ending.

Eve lies still as a statue, only able to stare up at the ceiling of Konstantin’s office, and wonder why Carolyn had cast a Full-Body Bind on her.

“A little more testing needed, I suppose,” Konstantin grunts. “I did not like that ending.”

“Indeed. Perhaps a lower cap. Or perhaps the same amount could be contained if administered more gradually,” Carolyn replies. “In any case, we can discuss these results at length later. For now, we must deal with the fallout.” Eve figures from Carolyn’s tone that ‘fallout’ means her and Villanelle.

“Can I move them?” she hears Konstantin’s voice say from somewhere above her. “When they are lying there like the dead, it gives me the creeps.”

“Yes,” Carolyn says, and Eve feels herself magically lifted into a sitting position, and she can now see Konstantin pointing his wand at her and Villanelle. He continues guiding them magically until they are positioned back to back, still completely paralyzed, but at least Eve has a better view of the room now.

“How much longer?” Konstantin asks. “I want to begin cleaning up my office.”

“The Dementors were dispatched nearly an hour ago. They should be here any minute,” Carolyn responds calmly. “Of course, they are only expecting one new inmate, but I do not think they are likely to decline an additional soul.”

Eve hears soft footsteps, and Carolyn walks into her view, looking her directly in the eyes. “Oh, Eve. I apologize. You must be rather confused. You put together more than we anticipated, but you’re still several steps behind.”

She clasps her hands behind her back and paces back and forth in front of Eve. “Maybe if you were a better investigator, you’d find it awfully suspicious that I should entrust such an important case to a young man fresh off passing his Auror exam, and a washed up disaster like you.”

Carolyn changes directions and walks out of Eve’s field of vision. “Or maybe, Villanelle, if you were not so blinded by love, you would have bothered to ask Anna how she obtained the Stone of Prometheus in the first place, and you’d have learned that Konstantin gifted it to Maxi as for his birthday. Billed as a harmless ‘historical trinket’. But not an accident.”

She reverses again, going on. “Maybe you would’ve thought about why Konstantin would’ve given such a troublesome and violent child an Invisibility Cloak. For that matter, maybe you could’ve considered why he never expelled you after your many transgressions, or why he would even think of bringing a child with a history of accidental murder to Hogwarts in the first place.”

“But do not feel too foolish, for it isn’t only the two of you.” Eve hear’s Carolyn’s footsteps come to a stop, and if she stretches her eyeballs to the side, she can just see Carolyn standing squarely between her and Villanelle. “For her part, maybe Anna should’ve smelled something awry five years ago, when Konstantin invited her here to teach, on the condition that she help one troubled child learn to control herself through Occlumency.”

Carolyn pauses thoughtfully. “Greed often blinds us, and gives us a false sense of pride. Perhaps with more distance, Anna would’ve wondered why her plan came together so easily and met no snags along the way. Perhaps she would’ve spotted the hands pulling the strings all around her.”

“Are you finished?” Konstantin grunts. “You don’t need to explain the entire thing to them before we ship them to Azkaban.”

“Forgive me. When executing such grand plans in secret, one so seldom gets to gloat. I relish the chance for a captive audience when it presents itself.”

Eve’s mind is racing, half occupied trying to process all the new information, while the other half frantically tries to brainstorm a way out of this situation.

“I almost wish you could respond,” Carolyn continues. “Although I believe I can predict what you’d say. You’d ask ‘why?’ Why bother with all of this? Simply put, because we are wiser than Anna. We knew the potential of the Stone of Prometheus, but we also know it requires caution. We decided there must be a way to unlock the power of the stone without suffering the unfortunate side effects. And so we sought sample data before taking chances with the stone ourselves. And poor Anna has provided us that data, in spades.”

Carolyn begins discussing the ‘data’ with Konstantin in hushed tones, so Eve is spared a moment to wonder how she can possibly escape without use of any of her muscles. Her wand is still clutched in her stony hand, but she can’t do any magic without moving it or speaking. 

At that moment, Konstantin comes over to her and pries her wand out of her hand. She can see that he’s already got Villanelle’s wand, and he holds them up next to each other, squinting. “Uncanny.”

Eve isn’t sure if Villanelle knows Legilimency or not. Possibly she learned some from Anna, but then again, it didn’t seem like she could read Eve’s mind before. In absence of any other options, Eve decides to think as loudly as she can in Villanelle’s general direction and hope.

 _Hey!_ she mentally shouts. _If you can hear, or sense, or whatever. We need to get out of here, and right now, you are our only chance. You need to do that thing you do. What you did to your parents. What you did back in the Divination room._

Nothing happens. Eve is vaguely aware of Konstantin walking back over to Carolyn and showing her the matching wands.

Eve decides to continue as if Villanelle can hear her thoughts anyway. _What does it take? When you get mad? Or sad? I don’t know what kind of feelings it’s limited to. I know you spent years trying to stop, but now we need it, so get feeling! Get pissed! We both got used like little chess pieces! I’m pretty fucking pissed myself, but I don’t know how to make shit explode! Come on, Villanelle! Get upset!_

Still nothing.

“Peculiar,” she hears Carolyn say. “Matching wands. This I did not foresee.”

“Nor did I,” Konstantin says. “When I brought her here to buy her wand, she said something about a twin. Someone else with a matching wand. If I had known who, I would have told you before you sent Eve here.”

 _Do you need me to piss you off more?_ Eve continues in her absurd internal monologue. At least if they die right now, her brain will be distracted. _What will make you mad? If I call you ‘Oksana’? You don’t like that, do you? Hey, Oksana! Oksana Astankova! The little girl from Russia with the big feelings!_

“What a curious coincidence,” Carolyn says. “This connection must have drawn them to each other. It’s lucky they didn’t work it out before Anna reached the point of no return. Any sooner, and it could have jeopardized the entire plan.” 

_I guess you can’t hear me,_ Eve thinks. _Just as well. No one to hear my last words, or last thoughts. Just me screaming into the void. That’s better, I guess. So I can admit that I really fucked this case up. I got Hugo killed. I basically got us killed, too. Funny how if I hadn’t solved the case, we wouldn’t be in this spot. But here we are. All because I was so drawn to you. Even when nothing in the case was pointing to you… I thought about you all the time. Your eyes. Your lips. Your wand. Your past. What you would do and who you’d do it with. How a killer could end up in Gryffindor. How a Gryffindor could end up a killer. I knew there was something between us. Guess we were destined to die together. After all my work to catch you… here we are. Going down together. And you know what the really sad part is? If I’m gonna die, I’m glad it’s next to you._

“Hey,” Eve is jolted from her inner monologue by Konstantin’s voice. By the proximity, it sounds like he’s come in to speak to Villanelle closely, face to face. “I am sorry about all this. Believe me when I say I wanted a better life for you. I meant it every time I said it. I wish it did not have to end like this, but I am glad I gave you a few years of peace and happiness. You could have rotted in that orphanage forever, or until you ended up in the Russian wizard prison, and that is worse than Azkaban. Azkaban will not be so bad for you,” he says, a falsely upbeat ring to his voice. “It may be nice. You will not be so overwhelmed by your feelings. The Dementors will take care of that. I know you may be hurt now, but soon you will not feel anything for Anna anymore. You will not feel anything at all.”

The next instant, Eve is flung into the ground as every molecule of air in the room seems to explode.

The force of the blast sends her face down into the floor, so she can only guess at what’s happening based on the sounds she can discern in her still-ringing ears. She hears a grunt of pain that must be Konstantin from the low pitch, then, a scrabbling sound right behind her. Is Villanelle free?

A low growl that becomes a guttural roar. Konstantin must be morphing back into his bear form. 

Villanelle’s voice. _“Accio!”_ Then some shuffling, a grunt, and _“Protego!”_ Carolyn launching more nonverbal magic at Villanelle?

Another boom rocks the office, and there’s a cry of pain that sounds like it must be Carolyn. It sounds wrong. Eve doesn’t think she’s ever heart Carolyn cry out in surprise or pain because no one has ever gotten the better of her.

Then, the sound of moment on the floor, close to Eve’s face. Something poking into her back. Villanelle’s voice again: _“Reparifors.”_

And Eve is free again. All of her muscles flop limply to the ground, and then she regains conscious control, and sits up to see Villanelle shoving Eve’s wand back into her hand urgently. 

No time to congratulate her on getting them free, because in the corner, there’s movement as a very angry Carolyn and a very angry grizzly bear stir, recovering from the impact of Villanelle’s blast.

They resume their attacks. Carolyn throws Stunning spells at them almost as fast as Eve and Villanelle can deflect, leaving them vulnerable to Konstantin’s physical attacks.

To think, only a few minutes ago, that grizzly bear had been so impressive, such a comfort to have fighting on their side. It’s a lot more intimidating now that he’s standing up, over seven feet tall, and swiping at them with huge paws as large as Eve’s head. Each time Eve and Villanelle try to regroup and tighten up for protection against Carolyn’s magical assault, Konstantin charges at them, the impact of his steps shaking the whole room, forcing them to scatter. 

Eve knows drastic action is required. Much like the chase on the Firebolt with Anna, they can only stay alive in this fight for so long. They cannot win against Carolyn, certainly the most powerful wizard in the UK now that Anna has collapsed into herself like a dying star, and a gigantic bear who seems immune to Stuns. Maybe, _maybe_ they would’ve had a sliver of a chance if they were fighting fresh, but Eve has already fought two battles tonight and her entire body aches. Villanelle seems to be fading, too – those blasts must have sapped her strength.

Eve looks to the broken window desperately. Their only chance is escape. 

She turns and makes eye contact with Villanelle for a split second, but knows that Villanelle understands what they must do. They both whip their wands straight at Konstantin and yell _“Stupefy!”_ at the same time, hitting him square in the snout with twin jets of red light. 

Due to the connection between their wands, the combined effect is greater than the sum of its parts, and the bear staggers backward, flopping onto the ground. They may have a chance now.

But just as Eve grabs Villanelle by the arm and starts to pull her towards the window, they see that Carolyn has not been subdued, and has her wand directed at Eve. 

Eve frantically fires at her, _“Expelliarmus!”_ but it’s too late. A red bolt of light is coming at her, there’s no time to shield or dodge. 

But Villanelle is there, throwing herself in the path of the stun, collapsing in a heap just as Eve’s disarming spell connects and Carolyn’s wand flies from her hand.

There’s no time to process. Eve hastily performs a Feather-Light Charm on Villanelle’s unconscious body and lifts her, with her new weight of a small backpack, onto her back, draping her arms over Eve’s shoulders for security. She scoops up Villanelle’s wand in her left hand.

She heads for the window, evaluating the dizzying drop before her. The Firebolt is nothing but splinters now, but perhaps if she casts a Slowing Charm on herself as she falls, and a Softening Charm on the ground–

But that is no longer an option, as she sees swirling shadows on the ground below. Dementors. Just outside. Probably about to fly up through this very window. 

So she takes her only remaining option and runs the other way, out the door of Konstantin’s office. 

With Villanelle in tow, Eve pelts down the corridor, skids and turns down the first staircase she sees. No time to check if Carolyn is on her tail. No time to worry about the Dementors catching up. She can only run forward.

 _Please,_ she prays, _please be nice to me, stairs._ She has no idea where she’s going, but it doesn’t matter anyways since the castle always seems to take her to a different spot.

By some miracle, or a stroke of structural empathy, the stairs sense Eve’s plight and actually, fully move themselves under her feet. Her stomach seizes up in that fearful way it does when you’re in free-fall as the entire staircase shifts under her and moves itself to connect to a different balcony, but even as the staircase leads to open air she does not slow down, running all the way down and exiting onto the floor below as soon as it connects. 

A flicker of hope lights inside Eve as she realizes the next turn around the corner brings her to the entrance hall, and she runs towards the castle door.

The escape is far from complete, though: over the past week Eve has grown quite familiar with the exact boundary of the Anti-Apparation enchantment on the Hogwarts grounds. She knows that in order to Apparate away, she will have to make it halfway down to the path to Hogsmeade, to the broken stile in the wooden fence. 

Legs pounding the grassy ground, she makes her way across the ground as fast as she can, feeling Villanelle’s reduced weight bobbing lightly against her back. 

The vast, green expanse seems to grow longer and longer before her. Even though Eve’s lungs burn with effort, the landmarks ahead of her, the lake shore to her left and wooden fence marking the path to Hogsmeade to her right, do not seem to grow any closer.

Has she been put underneath some kind of binding charm, or slowing charm? Are Konstantin and Carolyn just behind her, somehow halting her progress?   
  
Before she can spare a backward glance to see if that’s the case, she’s presented with a new problem dead ahead.

Several swirling shadows emerge from the dark edges of the forest, and as they move towards the openness of the ground, it becomes clear that they are not actually shadows but Dementors.

Cold seeps through Eve’s bones and she feels compelled to drop her wands, drop Villanelle, and curl up in a small ball on the ground and let the darkness overtake her. Even without the influence of the Dementors, her situation looks hopeless.

But as Eve begins to bend at the waist, almost letting herself collapse, she feels Villanelle stir slightly on her back, and that is all it takes to snap her back to reality. She raises both wands – hers in her right hand, Villanelle’s in her left – musters all her strength, and bellows, _“Expecto Patronum!”_

As she digs deep inside herself to grasp for the happiness required to produce her Patronus, Eve surprises herself. Her usual happy memories include ‘eureka’ moments from past cases; those treasured moments of personal glory and euphoria when she put together all the evidence and solved a case. 

It isn’t a conscious shift, but she automatically, reflexively finds purchase with a new memory. More recent and more potent, which provides all the fuel she needs for her Patronus.

She clings to the moment when she learned, for sure, that Villanelle was not the true evil behind the murder plot. When Villanelle had a chance to side with Anna but didn’t, when she threw Anna’s arm away, when she offered her Shield Charm to protect Eve. When she used the depth of her feeling to free them from their paralysis. When she took that Stun for Eve, sacrificing herself, trusting Eve to save them both.

A burst of silver erupts from Eve’s wand, taking the form of a panther which leaps forward, attacking two of the Dementors. Two more swoop in from the other side, and Eve panics, but to her surprise, another burst of silver emerges from her other wand – Villanelle’s wand. Eve has never produced two Patronuses (or is it Patroni? Eve has never had cause to pluralize it) before, and wonders if the two panthers will fight each other or merge into one, but the second Patronus does not take the same form.

A silvery falcon emerges, and though it is small, it flies at the other two dementors like a bullet, pecking and clawing at them and clearing them away as easily as the panther did. Eve cannot believe her eyes – how can this be?

Then she notices for the first time that Villanelle is awake, barely holding her head up, and has reached one arm down Eve’s left, clutching at her, supporting her. Offering her Patronus. 

Eve wants to ask what happy memory fuels Villanelle’s Patronus. She wants to try to figure out if Villanelle’s touch and their simultaneous spellcasting was the cause for her own shift in memory use. But there’s no time.

As the silvery animal guardians hold the Dementors back, Eve sprints through the gap between them, towards the dirt path to Hogsmeade.

Almost there. She can’t see the broken stile she’s searching for in the dark, but based on her memory of traversing this path multiple times a day for the past week, she knows it’s only a hundred meters or so until she passes the boundary of the enchantment.

Sixty meters… Fifty… Though every muscle in her body screams in protest, she must keep moving. She must resist the urge to look back and check the progress of the Dementors. She must get them to safety – if not for herself, for Villanelle.

Unsure when exactly she will break the barrier, she clutches both wands and focuses her mind, readying to Apparate, so that she can disappear as soon as she’s beyond the enchantment.

Destination? She doesn’t know where that should be. Someplace far from here and safe from Carolyn and Konstantin’s reach. Far and safe. Those are the only words she can muster up. As her feet fall on the ground for the final few meters, they create a rhythmic mantra for her: left, right, left, right. Far, safe, far, safe. 

She clutches both wands tightly, drawing on their power to help channel her Apparation. Mid-step, she suddenly feels a familiar yanking sensation from somewhere behind her navel, and the rush of being squeezed through a narrow tube at an alarming speed. With her last scrap of focus she prays that she doesn’t leave Villanelle behind somehow, or worse, splinch one or both of them. 

With a thud, she feels herself hit solid ground, and flings Villanelle onto the ground before her to check on her. After ascertaining that Villanelle is breathing and all her limbs seem to be present and accounted for, Eve spares her first look at her surroundings.

Soft, gray sand beneath them. Dark, choppy waves before them. They’re on a beach, but what beach, who can tell? No other people in their immediate vicinity.

Then Eve notes the trace of orange and pink left on the horizon. A moment ago, it had been past midnight, but now the sun is setting, which can only mean…

Eve spots a signpost in the middle of a patch of tall beach grass on the slope behind them. “Waterford Beach Park”, it reads in carved gold lettering. And she knows where they are.

Returning to Villanelle’s limp, unconscious body, she points her wand to Villanelle’s forehead and murmurs, _“Rennervate.”_

Villanelle gasps in a huge breath as she blinks back into consciousness. “Where are we?” She looks out at the water. “The lake…?”

“No,” Eve says. “That’s the Atlantic.”

“You got us out to the shore.” Villanelle tries to prop herself up, but her arms are weak. “We need to keep moving before they catch up. Stow away on a Muggle boat, maybe.”

“I don’t think they’ll catch up,” Eve says, unable to suppress her coy smile. She grabs Villanelle by the arms, helps her into a sitting position. She waits, biting her tongue, as Villanelle properly looks around. She sees the exact instant when Villanelle looks out at the horizon and clocks the setting sun with the same confusion Eve had a few moments ago. 

“No…” she murmurs. “This is…”

“Connecticut,” Eve says.

“Connecticut?” Villanelle repeats. “Isn’t that in…?”

“The United States.”

“Eve Polastri,” Villanelle says. “I am impressed.”

“I’m impressed, too,” Eve says. “You blew your way out of a total body paralysis and got the better of a grizzly bear. Not many wizards could do that.”

“Only one,” Villanelle corrects her. She squeezes Eve’s hand. Eve squeezes back.

“I have a very important question for you, though, Eve,” Villanelle says, her tone grave. A heavy pause before she says, “Am I still under arrest?”

Eve is dumbstruck. Villanelle starts to giggle, and Eve lets out a snort. Then, they’re both laughing, full belly laughs, getting louder and louder. Eve can’t stop, she’s laughing so hard tears come to her eyes. She flops down and rolls in the sand until her abs ache from laughing so hard.

Finally, when they’ve both tired themselves out, Villanelle rolls onto her side and looks at Eve. “I am starving. Tell me, is there food here in Connecticut?”

They get to their feet and Eve leads the way away from the shore, up towards civilization.

Villanelle turns and asks as they walk, “What is this place to you?”

“This is where I grew up,” Eve says. “I’d come down and walk through these trails and sit on the beach whenever I wanted to be alone, which was often.” 

When she was at home in the Muggle world, wishing she could go back to magic school, she often found herself wanting privacy. And yes, more than once she’d come out to this beach at night to practice charms after her more daring friends had given her tips on how to avoid detection while practicing underage magic. It was a safe space for her then, and it remains one now.

She leads them up the hill, taking Villanelle’s hand when she stumbles over a patch of uneven ground. On top of everything they’ve been through, Eve hasn’t eaten since she was at the Three Broomsticks. With Hugo. Christ. She becomes very aware of how empty her stomach is and feels slightly dizzy, but holds strong so she can support Villanelle, who is still in worse shape.

They make their way up the grassy hill, and as buildings appear in the distance Eve recalls that there is a mansion and a pub up by the entrance of the park. As they draw closer, it’s clear that there’s a swarm of activity around, and Eve prickles with fear until she realizes it’s only a Muggle wedding reception.

They could loop around through the woods, avoid being spotted and make their way out to the main road, follow it into New London. Jinx an ATM, scrounge up some Muggle cash, and get some takeout. 

But that would be an awful lot of work, and Eve is exhausted. So instead, she clutches Villanelle’s arm and leads them right up to the area of picnic tables set up outside the pub, lit up by string lights, and heads for the somewhat-depleted wedding buffet.

“Excuse me,” Eve hears a voice behind them, which she ignores as she piles a paper plate with pigs-in-blankets. “Excuse me!”, again, more insistently. 

Eve turns to see a very preoccupied looking Muggle man with a navy blue suit and a bit too much gel in his hair. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you.” Then, fully taking in Eve and Villanelle’s state – various tears and scorch marks on their clothes, windswept hair with bits of white foam and sand stuck in, and the wands in their hands, he stammers, “Are you alright? Should I call the police? Or, um, an institution?”

 _“Confundo,”_ Eve murmurs with a casual swipe of her wand, and the man blinks and shakes his head dazedly. “Oh, it’s so nice to talk to you,” Eve says sweetly. “Hey, I think John is looking for you over there.” She points off in the distance, and the man nods happily and walks where she’s pointing.

“John?” Villanelle repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a very good liar.”

“Thank you.”

“You know Confunding a Muggle is illegal.” Villanelle fixes Eve with a very serious look and holds it for five solid seconds until they both begin laughing again. 

Then Villanelle reaches for Eve’s plate, but Eve elbows her away. “Get your own.”

A few trips to the buffet and a few more Confundus charms later, they’re sitting laid out on the soft, lush lawn, watching the newlyweds slow dance (whose names, they have learned from the decorations, are Brad and Michael), and digging into slices of wedding cake.

Around a mouthful of sponge and icing, Villanelle finally asks the question that has been hanging over them, unspoken. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Eve replies, and stops picking at her cake with her fork to consider. 

They’re safely away from Konstantin and Carolyn’s reach for the time being, and if they keep their heads down, they may be safe for good. It’s unlikely they’d mount a worldwide search just to eliminate Eve and Villanelle. 

With Hugo gone, there’s no one left in Britain that Eve cares about, save for Phoebe, and that owl is smart enough to take care of herself. So there’s no practical reason forcing her back to Europe. But at the same time, her conscience nags at her.

Taking a deep breath, she begins, “I guess we should go back eventually and try to stop them from destroying all of the UK? Or all of Europe? Or at least warn people that the Minister of Magic and the Headmaster of Hogwarts are power-hungry plotters out to get them?”

Villanelle, mouth full, gives a noncommittal grunt.

“But you know what?” Eve continues. “I’m really fucking tired.”

Villanelle swallows a huge mouthful of cake, then gives a huge yawn. “Me too.”

She scoots across the grass, closer to Eve, and leans her head on Eve’s shoulder. Eve sits as still as possible, and can feel Villanelle’s slow deep breaths against her body. She is sure Villanelle is asleep, until she hears her voice.

“What are you thinking about, Eve?”

“Something Anna said, actually,” Eve admits, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “Something about our futures being plotted out before we are born.”

“That’s nice…” Villanelle murmurs. Now it sounds like she’s drifting off.

Eve reaches for her plate of cake from where she left it on the grass, but discovers it’s empty, with only a few sticky scrapes of frosting left. “Hey!” she exclaims, shoving Villanelle off her.

“You finally noticed?” Villanelle laughs. Now that she’s off her shoulder, Eve notices a mess of white frosting around her mouth. 

“How the hell did you… you know what, never mind,” Eve says, throwing up her hands.

“Are you mad?” Villanelle asks, cocking her head. “Just get some more.”

“It’s all gone now,” Eve says, crossing her arms.

“I’m sorry,” Villanelle says.

“It’s fine.”

“No, really, I wish I could share it with you.” Villanelle leans closer, and before Eve is conscious of what she’s doing, her hand reaches up to wipe the frosting from Villanelle’s chin.

And before she knows what’s happening, Villanelle is leaning forward to kiss her.

And before she knows what’s happening, she’s kissing Villanelle back.

Maybe they’ll go back and pull some heroics to save the wizards of Britain. Or maybe they’ll leave well enough alone and keep themselves safe in the States for a while. But they can figure that out later.

Eve has never cared much for history, nor has she ever believed in Divination. She’s sick of dwelling on the past. Sick of worrying about what the future holds. 

All that matters is the present moment, and who she is sharing it with.

Whatever comes next, they’ll face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming on this crazy HP journey with me.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> If you liked this, feel free to check out my other fics. I tend to write a lot of fast-paced plotty Villaneve stuff.
> 
> And please, please, do not hesistate to chat me up on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable)! <3


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